


Bleak Hide In Fire Toil

by Talonticus



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Drama, F/F, Humor, Romance, Swearing, Tragic Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6695968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talonticus/pseuds/Talonticus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making mistakes can cost you everything that you've struggled for, something that Captain Rana became all too aware of. Having been disgraced and sentenced, she arrives at the backwater isle of Bleakrock. For her, it might be a second chance, even if it means being away from her home and people. Perhaps the nords in this frozen land can teach her new ways of looking at life and command.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sun at tirdas

**Author's Note:**

> _Well, I suppose I'm giving this a try, then. I haven't really written any fics previously that focuses completely on two already established characters, but I sort of wanted to give this a try. I really enjoy the start of the Ebonheart Pact storyline, and all the things that happen to the villagers, especially the Earth-Turner family. That's what made me think of this and wanting to write a little story._
> 
> _This won't be all too long, perhaps 12-15 chapters in and around the size of this one, focusing on creating a romance between Captain Rana and Trynhild Earth-Turner. Both of them are characters in the Ebonheart Pact storyline, at the very beginning. If you haven't played that at all, I suppose there's some spoilers in this for these minor characters. I dunno if this will really add much new or exciting to that story, it'll just be expanding a bit on their characters, I suppose. Or rather, my interpretation of them._
> 
> _Oh, and I also won't have the Vestige in this. I mean, obviously the events that the Vestige is in, will occur, but I won't mention or feature the main character in any specific way. They'll be helping out probably, but the focus is on Rana and Trynhild._

The sun stands high on this beautiful Tirdas at Bleakrock Isle.  
The sounds of birds can be heard on the outskirts of the village, intermingled with that of the buzzling noises from within; the hammering inside the smithy, the fisherman’s chatter down by the docks, the lazy mooing from the cattle. It’s not exactly those found in some large city elsewhere on Tamriel, but it’s as noisy as it ever gets up here.  
As Rain’s Hand has just barely arrived, the snow has finally begun to thaw, revealing much of the untouched land of the isle. The coming of spring also means that what few traders who ever sail here, might finally return and bring sorely needed supplies to trade with the selection of resources and materials that are made here. 

There’s of course also the general supplies they get sent for living here, from representatives of the Ebonheart Pact. This place is one of the most northern of official Pact outpost, and so they do have a small amount of troops, or guards really, mostly acting as an outpost in case of attacks from the north. As war rages in distant lands, far to the south and west, one can never be all too certain what might happen and while this place hardly ever see much action, it’s officially spoken of as a valued outpost. 

For the golden blonde-haired young nord woman standing at the southern end of the village, it certainly doesn’t feel all that exciting around this place which she calls home.  
Currently, she’s leaning against one of the houses nearby, dressed in a sleeveless shirt, long pants, leather boots and with a black apron hanging across her front. She might’ve taken it off as she’s on a break right now, but hasn’t really bothered with it. Her black leather gloves that goes with the rest of the outfit, are hanging across her shoulder, while she has her arms folded.  
Sighing gently to herself, she gazes wistfully out towards the sea. From this part of the village, it’s possible to see the contours of mainland Tamriel. To the south and west lies the coast of Eastmarch in Skyrim, and the capital of Windhelm and to the east, it’s possible to spot the very top of Vvardenfell, belonging to the dunmer of Morrowind, as well as the tall Red Mountain. Bleakrock is like a little pebble, floating in between these two giants. 

The young nord originally hails from mainland Skyrim, before her parents decided to take the offered contract from the Pact and settle here on this lonely little island, something that she regrets, perhaps even more than they do. That was several years now though, when she was but a child, so it does feel rather distant. Still, it only makes her long even more for going back there one day and go live her own life. Surely it’s far more exciting than this boring place?

“Trynhild!”  
She’s shaken out of her thoughts by the voice of another, making her twitch and whirl her head around.  
Her eyes spot another nord woman then, with a paler blonde hair, dressed somewhat differently. Instead of the craftsman’s outfit that Tryn is wearing, this woman is wearing a lighter set of chain mail, with a sword at her belt. She’s slightly shorter than Tryn, but also just a bit older.  
“Slacking again, are we? Tsk tsk, what does Maesa say about such behaviour, huh?”

Sighing faintly, Tryn rolls her eyes when she spots that smug look.  
“Shor’s bones Rolunda, you startled me.” 

Rolunda walks with her arms behind her back, seeming quite satisfied about the fact that she managed this. It’s not the first time either that she walks in on her friend being far away.  
“Well, someone’s gotta make sure you stay alert. Apparently Maesa isn’t succeeding with it.”

Tryn frowns slightly in return, not liking the constant accusation of her laziness.  
“I’m on a lunch break, I’ll have you know.”

Rolunda nods knowingly, a wry smile still on her lips.  
“Ahh, yes of course. A lunch without any food, as well. Must be quite an empty one.”

There’s a rock nearby to where Tryn is standing and so Rolunda places herself on it, leaning her arms back as well.  
“I…I just ate it! Are we not allowed to relax afterwards now?”

Rolunda enjoys their little back and forth, which is why she doesn’t end it all too quickly.  
“Of course you are, but how are you ever going to increase your smithing skills, if you just stand around all day, eh?”

It is true that she enjoys her work as a blacksmith’s apprentice, and she does want to reach the level of her teacher. Tryn just wishes she wouldn’t have to do it in such a boring place as Bleakrock.  
“Look who’s talking. Is Tillrani paying you to sit and poke fun at me?”

Rolunda tilts her head from side to side.  
“Well, I think it’s in the job description, isn’t it? Keep your skills sharp, watch out for bandits, hassle the lazy apprentice…”

Tryn doesn’t appear as amused, shaking her head briefly.  
“Yeah yeah, very funny.” 

Her eyes turn back out towards the sea, trying to ignore her friend’s prodding, hoping it might turn more serious soon enough.  
Rolunda gives in, stands up and joins her by the wall, where she ends up blocking Tryn’s view.  
“What’s wrong today, Tryn? You seem upset about something.”

Now they’re getting to the heart of the matter. Well, it’s perhaps not the actual cause, but one of many among those why she wishes she could be elsewhere. She sighs, somewhat dejectedly.  
“It’s Otroggar again.” 

Rolunda nods knowingly, realizing what it’s about.  
“Ah, I see. Has he been saying things again?”

Tryn snorts and gazes down, starting to kick lightly into the faint bit of snow still left on the ground.  
“You make it sound like it ever stops. It doesn’t. He keeps trying with his stupid remarks every now and then. I don’t get why he doesn’t understand that I’m not interested.” 

The young guardswoman peers at her friend thoughtfully, at least slightly sympathetic to her predicament.  
“Mm, I suppose that’s just how boys are; at least ones like him. He doesn’t know a proper way of how to express himself, so he goes for the most obvious.” 

“Yeah well, it’s not working on me. There are other girls here, if he really wanted one.”

Rolunda smirks faintly.  
“Not many, and he seems to like the ones who enjoy doing the tougher jobs. Besides, he is kind of handsome, isn’t he?”

Tryn turns her head back to glare at the other nord, feeling like she’s urging it more than actually supporting.  
“Then why don’t you get his interest instead, if you like him so much?” 

She chuckles and then nudges her shoulder into Tryn’s gently.  
“Oh come now, I wouldn’t get in between the two of you!” 

The apprentice groans slightly and then try to look back out into the waters again. She thinks of Windhelm, the large busy city and it’s many people. In among all those, she bet she’d find someone way more interesting than a fisherman. Some of the finest warriors are said to be there, after all.  
“Rolly, don’t-“

It’s Rolunda’s time to look and sound displeased now.  
“Oh please, don’t call me that. It’s bad enough that Eiman still uses it…”

Tryn feels a bit of a smirk coming on, but ignores the protests.  
“Don’t you ever think about going to the mainland? Seeing the mountains in Eastmarch, the tundra around Whiterun…or going down further and seeing other places of Tamriel? I hear they don’t even have snow down in the argonian and khajiit lands.” 

There’s a bit of silence as Rolunda thinks those words over. It’s not like she’s never thought about it, but not something that’s often on her mind.  
“Hmm, you sound kinda…wistful saying that. Or bored, I can’t tell which.”

Tryn spreads her arms with a grimace on her face as if it should be obvious.  
“Well of course, I am – nothing ever happens here! Bleakrock is such a fitting name for this hole.” 

Rolunda gets back her smug look then, as she realizes that she knows something that her friend doesn’t.  
“Oh? Sounds to me like you haven’t heard the latest news, then.”

Their eyes meet, as the apprentice appears confused.  
“What do you mean?” 

Rolunda turns and nods down at the harbour, which isn’t too far away.  
“A ship just docked, not carrying the typical traders or so, but official soldiers of the Pact; two of them are dark elves.”

\---------------------------------

As a voice calls for them, the two dunmer take a few decisive steps out from their cabins and out onto the deck of the ship. They’ve not been travelling for all too long, a day or two at most, but it already feels like they’ve been flung across the world to a completely different land. The first thing that makes them realize this, is when the cold wind sweeps down upon them. During most of the trip, they’ve stayed inside, so it’s not until now that they get the truth exposed for them. 

The one of lesser rank but better mood, Seyne, smiles at her superior and spreads her arms as she motions towards the land.  
“And so here we are; the frozen wastes of Bleakrock! Ahh, can you sense that fresh wind? It really feels like we’ve arrived in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t it?” 

While Seyne is more upbeat, her superior, Captain Rana, eyes the isle with scepticism.  
“Smells of goat and that horrible drink they seem to serve in every damn nord settlement.” 

The Sergeant snickers slightly and then nudges her shoulder into Rana’s.  
“C’mon Captain, it’s not that bad, is it? It’s a bit smaller sure, but it’s better than nothing.”

Rana frowns slightly and glares at Seyne.  
“A bit smaller? By the Three, Seyne, it’s a little pit in the middle of nowhere! Our back alleys were larger than this.” 

Seyne still looks amused and nods faintly.  
“True, but just think about how small that cell would’ve been if you got a worse deal. Or that house you’d be sulking in, if you simply lost your rank.”

It’s true that she was lucky, in a way at least. After the mistakes she’d made, her court martial might’ve been much worse if the judge hadn’t been so understanding of her. Despite the exterior, her Sergeant is correct in that she has to at least be thankful for anything at all.  
“Alright, alright…you win. I’ll try to whine a little less.”  
As they don’t really need to rush off as of yet, they move up towards the railing, leaning against it as they examine the place and wait for the crew to get themselves settled in for the time being.  
Rana eyes Seyne thoughtfully, crossing her arms. Both of the women are dressed in similar heavy grey armor, as expected from dunmer soldiers in the Pact.  
“You know, this is your last chance if you want out of this. Afterwards, we’ll both be stuck here, perhaps for years.”

Seyne arches one of her eyebrows, surprised to be getting this once more. She thought it was done for after the talk they had on the docks before they left Vvardenfell.  
“This again? After coming all the way here, you think I’d just leave you at the final step and turn back around?”

She will admit that she didn’t really think that would be the case, but she can never believe that anyone would come here with her willingly. Rana gazes out at the water and shrugs slightly.  
“I figured that you might finally change your mind when you saw the backwater that we’ve arrived at.”

The Sergeant lifts her eyes to peer at the city, seeing the familiar design of nord buildings in the nearby vicinity. She snorts at Rana.  
“What, you think you’ll get rid of me that easily, do you? Not a chance, Captain. I’m with you all the way.” 

Rana exhales briefly, peering at her tentatively. For a moment, she eyes Seyne’s scar across her eye, thinking back to the day it happened. They’ve not fought together for all too long, but they’ve already seen some action and Rana is confident enough that she can trust this woman.  
“You don’t have to do this, Sergeant. You’re a good soldier and I’m sure you’ve got a long and fruitful career ahead of you. Sitting around here with me will only ruin your progress.” 

She does feel like adding something witty here, but not before she smiles at Rana, while putting an arm around her.  
“Nah, I’ll be alright. Somebody’s gotta keep you company and stop you from feeling all too homesick. Besides, maybe working closer with the nords may lead to something exciting as well.”

Rana appreciates the comradeship and support, and smiles in return.  
“Thank you. I’m…actually glad to hear you say that. Dunno if I could really do this without you.”  
Sighing again, she shakes her head and stands up a bit straighter.  
“I suppose it’s time that we go talk to the locals and see what they have for us. We’ll need to talk to the one in charge right now.”

Seyne does the same, but then folds her arms.  
“Oh eh, yeah you go do that.”

Rana turns back to her, somewhat confused.  
“What do you mean? You’re not coming with me?”

“Oh, I will, just not up to their guard commander.” 

What’s this sudden change now? It sounded like Seyne would always have her back, but there’s a sudden bit of resistance.  
“Wait, do you know something that I don’t? I’m going to make you my second-in-command, Sergeant, and there should be no secrets between us.”

Seyne smirks a bit wider. There’s not really anything in terms of secrets that she knows.  
“Oh there aren’t, Captain. But, you’re going to head up to a nord in charge and tell her that a dunmer is taking over her position?  
Yeah, I think I’ll leave that kind of ‘fun’ to you. You can find me at the local tavern afterwards.”

The Sergeant winks and starts walking, leaving Rana rather stunned.  
“H-hey! This isn’t fair! We’re supposed to do this together!”

Seyne keeps walking off the ship, waving over her shoulder.  
“We are, Captain! I’ll just handle some paperwork while you deal with the important stuff.”

Lifting her gaze to the sky, Rana sighs deeply. She could just give the order to join but, what’s the point? She’s not going to break relations with the one person she’s somewhat close to.  
Oh well, into the fray she goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'm not really sure how well Trynhild and Rolunda actually knows each other, nor what Rolunda actually does but, I think someone mentioned that she's kinda good at fighting and I felt like it was more worth it to use her in this role, rather than create someone completely new._


	2. Extended grasp

The arrival of a new Captain of the guard on the isle, hadn’t really brought any direct changes to it for the villagers. They could continue their lives as normal, doing their jobs and enjoying themselves as they wish, for no new rules or regulations had been implemented.   
Despite this, there’s been dissenting voices in among them, although mostly spurred by other guards. Few up here really enjoy change, especially when someone who has no prior knowledge of the land, suddenly rip it away from those who’ve lived here for many years. 

Trynhild can’t really say that she feels the same. She hasn’t received the chance to see much of the elven Captain, but to have something fresh on this little pebble is rather intriguing.   
The day after, she immediately spoke to her friend Rolunda, who’s in the guard force, and the other young nord did mention that the dark elf has plans to put up new and somewhat tougher training schedules, as well as some altering scout positions, but for the most part, there wasn’t any real changes. Naturally, no one expected Tillrani, the former commander of the guard, to remain quiet. Oh no, if anything, they’d expect to see the depths of Oblivion rain down upon this isle in response to it. While such drastic consequences haven’t occurred as of yet, a few days after the change, there’s still a lot of loud complaints.

For the past few days, Tryn has been having lunch out on the southern end of the village. That does happen sometime, but not every day and the reason mostly ends up being for her to watch the mainland or for new arrivals to come. These few days though, her eyes have generally been focused on the Captain’s building, hoping to get a view of the newcomer.   
As it turns out, she gains some luck today, although not quite the way she had intended.

The door to the facility slams open and out from it comes a storming nord woman, with dark blonde and somewhat greying hair, clad in leather armor except for on her well-trained arms, which are adorned with a lot of really intricate black tattoos.   
Right behind her, Tryn spots one of the newcomers, something that immediately gets her attention. She’s seen some dark elves in the past, when traders or some representatives from Vvardenfell have arrived, but the woman dressed in grey armor, above ashen skin, with red eyes and black hair is still very fascinating. She walks rather unburdened by the heavy metal that adorns most of her body, perhaps as expected by a well-trained soldier. Tryn isn’t all too far away either, probably the closest she’s ever been to one of the people from Morrowind. 

While the younger nord is quite interested, the older one is far from it. She frowns as she storms out, but has to stop when Rana grabs her shoulder and Tillrani spins around.  
“Get off me, dammit!”

Rana lets go of her, but doesn’t move away and the two of them glare at each other, forcing the dunmer to look up, of course.  
“Then how about you wait and listen to me for just one moment!?”

“And hear more of your inane suggestions?! I’ve had enough of that for one day, thank you!”

Tryn had heard of the clash between the two women, but not that it’d be this severe.   
“This isn’t fair, Tillrani! You aren’t even trying to consider giving me a chance!” 

“I would, if you weren’t such a gods-cursed fool!”   
Tillrani takes another step closer, trying to intimidate the Captain, but it isn’t working, at least from the looks of it.  
“I’ve held this island secure for _years_ , elf, which all of those bastards from the mainland are aware of. If they aren’t, then they sure as Oblivion will be when I get to Windhelm. And when they are, you’ll be out of here in seconds!”

Rana sighs deeply and folds her arms.  
“I’m telling you, that’s not going to happen! You think I wanted this position, or that I asked for it? I did not! But as I’ve got it now, and nothing has yet to go awry, then I’ll be keeping it for the time being.”

Tillrani frowns, placing her hands at her hips.  
“You think this is nothing more than your punishment, don’t you? A little backwater island that no one give’s a skeever’s arse about? Then you might as well get out of here! No one wants you anyway!” 

The elf shakes her head, peering to the side and she now tries to lower her voice a bit.  
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry about this. I’m not your enemy, Tillrani, nor do I want to fight you. Just give me a chance and we can work together.” 

Tillrani tilts her head and gazes at her challengingly.   
“Oh? Then make me your second-in-command, if you’re so eager to cooperate.” 

At this, the Captain displays some reluctance and bites her lower lip for a moment.  
“I…I’m sorry, that position is reserved for Sergeant Seyne. But perhaps we can-“

The nord doesn’t give her any time to finish, turning around sharply and raising an arm dismissively.  
“Fine, then I’m off to Windhelm. When I get back, you’ll be gone and can return to your fucking volcanos and ash!”

As Tillrani leaves, Rana spreads her arms in defeat and exhales briefly. It’s as if they’ve argued for days and she simply doesn’t know how to go at this any longer. She has no choice but to let the former guard leader leave and have her say. There’s no chance of Rana really losing her command right now anyway.

When she’s about to turn and get back inside, she suddenly notices Trynhild standing by another building, and the nord widens her eyes in return. There’s an awkward silence in between them, until Rana clears her throat.  
“Oh, I uh…I was not aware that we had an audience. I’m sorry that you had to witness that.”   
She tries to stand a bit straighter.  
“I assure you, citizen, that the majority of my guards are not as…upset about the current changes.”

Tryn knows the truth of the matter and that Rana is merely trying to remain confident, but she’s not here to poke fun at her anyway. She pushes away from the wall and dusts off her hands, to get away any remaining breadcrumbs of her lunch and gives the Captain a gentle smile.  
“It’s alright, we all know about how Tillrani can be. She’s always been like that, really. I don’t think anyone expected her to step down willingly.” 

The dunmer glances down at the ground and shakes her head.  
“Aye, I suppose you’re right. Still, I wish she wouldn’t. She’s been trying to oppose me at every step so far.   
It’s not like I can’t understand her concern, just that…well, we all have to get used to this, whether we want to or not.”   
She’s not sure if she’s actually trying to explain it to this unknown nord or if she’s simply trying to make justifications for herself.   
Eventually though, she looks back up and goes a bit closer to offer her hand.  
“Ah, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself to anyone except the guards. I’m Captain Rana.   
…though, I suppose you might already know that.” 

Tryn snickers gently and nods, but takes the hand and shakes it gently. She notices how firm the Captain’s handshake is.  
“I think most people in the village does. I’m Trynhild Earth-Turner - I live with my mother, father and brother on the eastern part of the village. My parents are farmers, but I work as the apprentice of our blacksmith, Maesa.”

Rana places her arms behind her back, watching the nord curiously.  
“Oh, a blacksmith? Interesting. That’s quite an admirable profession, sera. I’ve known a few in the past, and they’re some of the most skilled and hardy people.”

While she’s mostly saying this because she does admire people who craft such fine objects, Tryn still feels and appears rather proud.  
“I…I happen to agree! Maesa is a very good teacher as well, one of the best smiths in Skyrim! We’ve made the weapons for the whole guard force in town and sometimes she makes some special ones to sell to the mainland.   
If you ever need a new weapon, Captain, you’re welcome to come over to us.” 

She gets a brief nod in response, and there’s the faintest of smiles upon the elf’s lips.  
“I think I’d like that. I might need a bit of a polish to my armor as well, if your smithy performs such services.”

“Oh, we do! I’m sure we can set something up for you.”  
She’s almost surprised over her own eagerness at the thought of this. 

“Well, I have a lot to do but, as soon I get the chance, I might come around for an inspection.” 

Tryn smiles brightly, although in the back of her mind, she wonders how Maesa might react to it.  
“I look forward to seeing you then, Captain!”

As the two of them separate and go their own ways, they both feel somewhat more upbeat than they were just a few minutes prior.


	3. Heat of the forge

For a few days now, Maesa has been surprised over how hard her apprentice has been working.  
Perhaps it shouldn’t be all too much of a shock, for Trynhild is usually quite good at what she does. In fact, she’s very eager to learn and improve her skills, and Maesa has even noticed a bit of admiration aimed her way at times. But she will admit that the younger nord does sometimes get too distant, disappearing into her own mind and the dreams of leaving Bleakrock.   
It’s understandable too, for few things happen on this little isle so far north, and not a lot of people feel any reason to come here. Which youngster wouldn’t dream of going to the mainland where adventure and opportunity presents itself on a much wider scale?

Still, there’s been something going on lately though, as Trynhild hasn’t shown any of the previous distance that’s seen sometimes. It’s unlikely that she’s given up on her dreams, so it has to be something else. The smith does feel like she should approach the subject, but it’s rare for them to speak about much else than work or family. They’re friends, and in such a small place, it’s hard not to know everyone, but they’re not all too close.

Those thoughts are interrupted however, when the door to their little hall opens up and they see someone arriving. They rarely get ‘customers’ in that sort of fashion which blacksmiths in the south may be used to. It’s not like there’s a lot of people that pass through this town, so most of their work is for the guards in terms of weapons and repairs, as well as any custom needs from the other villagers.   
This day though, they get a special visit, as one of the two newcomers enters. Maesa sees how the young dark elf glances around the place, surprisingly enough, with a rather pleasant expression. What was her name again? R-something.   
To the side, Maesa notices that Tryn is already eyeing the elf, being almost fully distracted from her work.

“Ah, hello there! You are the new guard commander, aren’t you?”

Rana shifts around to the smith and meets her eyes, placing her arms behind her back. It’s somewhat of a stiff stance, but she appears secure in it at least.  
“Yes, that’s right. I’m-“  
She then blinks and seems to realize something, so she turns her arms forward again and moves up to her, while offers one of them.  
“I’m Captain Rana, sent here from the Pact.”

Maesa eyes her stance, seeing the elf’s rigid pose, but also that she walks in heavy armor without much trouble. Perhaps a soldier that’s seen a bit of action, then.   
She smiles in return and takes the hand, shaking it heartily.  
“Good to meet you, Captain! I’m Maesa, the only blacksmith this far north.”

“Aye, so I’ve heard.”

“Has Tillrani told you about me? If there’s anything you or the rest need, we’ll be happy to take any orders. Usually we just do regular ones, but I always have time for some exciting custom ones.” 

The Captain appears satisfied with the eager response she receives, something she probably isn’t getting from the former guard commander.  
“That’s…good to hear, sera. And well, no, Snow-bourne didn’t tell me much about this town at all, so I’ve had to ask for help elsewhere.”  
Her eyes shift over to the side, where Tryn is standing.  
“Sera Trynhild met with me a few days ago actually, and she invited me. I figured I might as well do a little bit of an inspection, to learn more of my post.” 

Maesa turns as well, gazing at her apprentice with interest. She notices now how the young nord is smiling gently, mostly at Rana.   
“Did she now? Well, I suppose it doesn’t hurt to show you around a bit. You will be sticking to Bleakrock for a while, I guess?”

Rana nods, but does emit a quick sigh as well.  
“Aye, despite Tillrani’s protests, I don’t intend to leave any time soon. Pact command sent me here, and that’s where I’ll stay.” 

At this, Maesa erupts into a slight laughter and shakes her head.  
“Ah, don’t worry about Tillrani; she just loves being in charge, that’s all. Try to give her a little bit of what she wants at times and I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine.”

The dunmer appears sceptical regarding this, but nods faintly.  
“I do hope you’re right. It’s already been rather rough fighting with her for just a few days; I can’t imagine what it’d be like to do so for months.”

Maesa nods slightly and she’s about to offer a little tour of the building, but then looks to her apprentice instead.  
“Trynhild, why don’t you show the Captain around, eh?”

Having been lost in her own thoughts, staring at the elf, she suddenly twitches and peers at Maesa.  
“Uh, me?”

The older nord smirks and folds her arms.  
“Do you know anyone else with that name? Come now, get to it! I’m not paying you to stand around and be lazy.”

Tryn clears her throat and takes off her gloves so that she can wipe some of the sweat and dust off her face. Rana doesn’t really seem to mind.  
“Well eh, come with me then Captain. I can show you where we store and refine the metals first.”

“Splendid.”   
The Captain follows her as they walk out towards the backdoor. It’s not all too large of a place, but they do have two rooms, with most of the actual crafting happening here at the front.

Now, Maesa could leave the two of them alone, to handle their own business, but as she’s far too curious, she sticks to the side of door opening, and watches them from afar.  
Tryn shows Rana around a little bit, displaying the storage, some of the crafts and processes that are made in here. The Captain mostly remains silent, except for a few questions here and there, and keeps her attention up the whole way. It appears she has an interest for blacksmithing as well, even if she apparently doesn’t have any such skills. 

Once they’re almost done, Rana gazes around the area for a bit, as if she’s searching for something.  
“Do you have any crafts of your own in here? Any custom ones, I mean.”

Tryn nods slightly and motions towards a special shelf to the side.  
“Oh yes, I can show you some of Maesa’s custom made weapons if you-“

Rana interrupts her along the way.  
“No I…I meant custom ones made by you.” 

This wasn’t something she was expecting and Tryn stares at her for several seconds, before she lifts a hand to scratch her neck.  
“Ah, well, there are a few, yes. They’re not quite up to erm, the same standard as Maesa’s, though.” 

“That’s quite alright. I’m certain they’re still very skilfully made.”

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Trynhild complies and shows a box along the wall where she’s put some of the weapons that she’s been working on. At times, they get some special or expensive metal sent here and while it mostly happens that they’re saved for more important occurrences, or for Maesa to craft something to sell for a higher price, she has on a few occasions lent some to Trynhild as well.  
One of those objects are lifted up right now, a greatsword with a lot of intricate markings along the blade. Tentatively, she hands it over to Rana, who grabs the hilt and feels it out in her hand.

After turning it around for a bit, she glances up at the nord.  
“What are these markings?”

Tryn strokes a hand nervously through her hair.  
“Oh, those are eh, just decoration. I’ve seen some of them in a book once. The blade is made from some orichalcum ore that Maesa allowed me to use for one of her tests. I thought of the runes in the book and while those were magical enchantments, I figured they’d just look nice on this weapon. There’s not really anything magical about it, though.”

Rana gazes at them and strokes a few fingers along the blade.  
“They’re beautiful.” 

Tryn has to lift her hand to hide a faint blush, something that Rana misses.  
“…thank you.” 

After this, the dark elf takes a few steps away and then tries it out, swinging it slightly in the air, while doing her best not to hit anything inside. Trynhild watches her intently, seeing how the soldier moves the heavy weapon in her arms with ease. She stops a few seconds later and smiles, shrugging somewhat.  
“Greatswords have never been my speciality, but it does feel rather nice to wield. The hilt is sturdy and easy to grip and the blade is lighter than I thought it’d be.” 

Trynhild smiles brightly once more.  
“Thank you, Captain, you’re far too kind. If you wish, I could craft something for you sometime.”   
She hesitates afterwards and fidgets a bit with her hands.  
“Though I…don’t know much about dark elf crafts, but Maesa does. I could ask her to teach me, although I’m certain that one made from her would be better.” 

Once she’s put the weapon back in its place, Rana lifts her arms to cross them and gives her a gentle smile of her own.  
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind if you want to give it a try. If you actually want to spend your time learning the techniques of my people, well, I would be very honoured.”   
Maesa watches as the two women stand there gazing at one another, most adoringly from Tryn’s side. Rana eventually breaks it and starts to step back towards the door.   
“Thank you for the tour, sera Trynhild. It was most enlightening. I should perhaps get back to my station though.” 

Just slightly disappointed, Tryn nods knowingly and the two of them walk out together to the front room. Maesa has had to rush over to her seat, making it seem like she’s working, but she peers up enough to see them wave their goodbyes.  
“It was very nice of you to come here, Captain. I hope to see you again sometime.” 

“I’m certain you will.”  
As Rana leaves, Maesa observes how Tryn gazes after her, surprising the old smith in the wistfulness of it. 

Feeling somewhat devious, she lifts one of her hammers to slam it against the anvil, sending Tryn quickly out of her thoughts again.  
“Well, I suppose you’ll be asking me about Morrowind crafts from now on then!”

Tryn almost looks distraught at the comment but tries to control herself to the best of her abilities.  
“What? W-were you listening?”

Maesa smirks at her, leaning one of her hands against the anvil and the other at her hip.  
“Just a little bit. It’s not a big place, you know, so it’s easy to overhear things.”  
Once more, Trynhild tries her best to cover her reddening cheeks. Maesa just shakes her head amusedly.  
“Don’t worry, it’s not like I mind it or anything. A good smith needs to learn as many styles and techniques as possible anyway.   
Just don’t get into too much trouble because of that elf.” 

As she returns to her own position in the smithy, Tryn appears just as eager to get back to work.  
“Well, perhaps this village needs a bit of trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I know that in the game, the smithy is shared with the rest of the crafters, but I liked the idea of separate buildings more. The village in my mind is larger than just a handful of houses, anyway._


	4. Deep in the mug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _See, I hadn't forgotten about this! I was just distracted with some other stuff for a while._

Another ship arrives to the isle, this one unannounced just like the former a few days ago. Rana is starting to learn that this sort of procedure isn’t unusual for Bleakrock and it’s grating on her. Not that she’s never experienced such arrivals prior to being posted here, but at least on Vvardenfell, there were some sort of structure to things. They weren’t out away from all the main centers for communication and could at least somewhat predict when new arrivals would come around. Up in the Sea of Ghosts, she just feels like they’re at such a disadvantage. What if some enemy would approach some day? Would she even know how to handle that? She’s done mistakes when facing the unknown before and to do it again, well, it would probably ruin her entire career this time. 

Although if she considers the situation carefully, she might come to the conclusion that it’s not just about the ships, nor just about the difficulty of handling Tillrani either. For a lot of reasons, she misses being back in Morrowind. She’s never really been one who’s had many friends, but what few she did have, all of them are down there. On top of that, she misses the landscape of southern Vvardenfell, with its swampy greenery and giant fungi. She misses walking past the guar pen in the morning on the western side of town, and watching them play during lunch. Of course, she misses the drinks too. There’s not a good bottle of sujamma even close to here. 

Perhaps it’s only a matter of slowly getting used to it. So far, her subordinate Sergeant Seyne, apparently seems to be doing rather fine. At least better than she is. Then again, Seyne isn’t the one who has to take all the criticism for her words and actions, such as the one in charge. Rana has this feeling that she needs to keep a distance to everyone else, so that she’s able to make her choices objectively. That’s what the higher ups did in Pelagiad, right? She just wants to emulate them, but it’s becoming difficult to really care about everything surrounding her then, especially the people. Whether a different approach should be chosen, she’s not been able to decide as of yet.

While she stands there in the middle of this spring day, watching the docks carefully, a gentle voice can be heard from behind.  
“Captain!”  
She blinks momentarily and then slowly turns to face the nord who walks closer. To her relief, it’s one of the locals who’s actually been kind of nice to her so far.  
“Good afternoon, Captain.”

“Ah, sera Trynhild. Good afternoon.”

The young apprentice smiles as she stops not too far away from her side and she’s wearing her usual working clothes, but not the apron.  
“How are you doing? Watching the arriving ships?”

“Mm, just overseeing things from afar, that’s all.”  
She turns to glance at the ship again, seeing how some of the crew on it starts unloading some boxes.  
“I’m sure the others have things under control.”  
It’s not like she has actually has to stand there, but somehow she feels restless. After a few seconds of silence, she peers at Trynhild again, eyeing her quickly.  
“Not working today?”

“Oh, I am! But Maesa believes that this ship carries a shipment that she ordered a while ago, so I’m just going to get that for her, while she focuses on work.” 

Rana glances down at the vessel again and noticing that the boxes are fairly large.  
“Hmm, I see. Would you…like some help carrying it?” 

Trynhild appears a bit surprised, but then smiles gently.  
“Heh, that’s very kind of you to offer Captain, but don’t worry, I can handle it on my own.”  
She slaps her own arm faintly.  
“Maesa says it’s good to do so anyway, to help my own fitness. It’s useful for a blacksmith as we handle a lot of heavier objects most of the time.”

Rana exposes a faint smile and nods.  
“Well, I suppose you’re right. We soldiers do the same thing though and if you’d ever want some help, I wouldn’t mind offering it sometime.”

There’s an interested glint in Tryn’s eyes, but Rana can’t quite pinpoint as to what it might be.  
“I…might take you up on that sometime, Captain.  
How are things going with your own work?”

The dunmer hesitates, placing her arms behind her back. She’s uncertain if she wants to be truthful, that distance is something she seeks after all, but Tryn has been one of those who’s been kind and open-minded. Might as well return the favor in some fashion.  
“It’s…going well, I suppose.”

Tryn tilts her head curiously.  
“You don’t sound so certain of that.”

Rana sighs briefly and shrugs, somewhat dejectedly.  
“I enjoy my post here. It’s calm and not all too difficult.”

“…but…?”

“But I will admit that I’m still feeling rather distant. I feel as if I’m not really fitting in here.” 

Tryn seems to understand what she’s talking about, moving her head back and forth in thought.  
“You’ve not been doing all too badly, in my opinion at least. But you are still an outsider, I suppose.”

“Exactly, but it’s been several weeks now. It never took this long on some of my prior posts.”  
She shakes her head briefly.  
“I’m wondering if I’m perhaps not cut out to lead a nord force, in the same way that I do a dunmer one. We have different customs and expectations. Sometimes it’s a bit…taxing.” 

Tryn peers at her sadly, understanding that it must be difficult for her, but also feels how she wants to help.  
“Well, I’m not sure if you’re interested in advice or so.”

Rana glances up at her; at least she’s getting used to the fact that pretty much everyone is taller than her.  
“Oh, I’d love some. Anything that can help me get along with the people here would be nice.”

Tryn puts her arms at her hips and smiles playfully.  
“I’m not sure how much it would help out but tomorrow night; me, Rolunda, Eiman, Darj and a few others are gathering up in the tavern. Darj is heading off to the mainland to hunt for a couple of weeks, so we’re going to have a little bit of a feast among some of us to wish him good luck. Nothing too large but some drinks, good food and Eiman might sing for us. He’s not great at it, but he’s got a lute.”

There’s surprise expressed on the dunmer and then some skepticism as well.  
“…you think I should join you all, at the tavern?”

“I don’t think it’d hurt. Most of the younger people in the village will be there, so you might get to know some of them.”

Rana lifts a hand to scratch her neck uncertainly. This is perhaps not quite what she had in mind.  
“I…I see. Perhaps it wouldn’t be an awful idea, but…I’m not that used to crowds either. Well, the sort of crowd you have in mind.”

Tryn smiles wryly and nudges her shoulder gently.  
“Oh come now, Captain, it’ll be fun! You will have a chance to relax and enjoy yourself a bit. If you wish, you could ask Sergeant Seyne to join us as well.” 

It does seem to be the first major opportunity for her to fit in, but there’s other things as well to consider.  
“Yes but-  
I don’t know if I-  
…there will be mead present, won’t it?”

“Of course there will be mead! What else would we drink, hmm?”

Rana sighs, already thinking of half a dozen other drinks that she’d rather consider than having that.  
“…thank you for the invitation, sera Trynhild. I shall consider it and speak with the Sergeant. We might just join you, if there’s nothing that gets in the way.”

Tryn shines up when hearing this, to a surprising degree for Rana.  
“Splendid! Then I look forward to seeing you at the tavern tomorrow. Wear something lighter! I don’t think you’d enjoy drinking with us in armor.  
Anyhow, I have to run!”

She rushes away towards the ship, almost skipping along the road.  
Rana did say she _might_ join, right? Dammit, now she’ll be expected there.

\-------

And so, on the eve of the next day, the Captain finds herself wandering over towards the local tavern, feeling both nervous and reluctant. Well, perhaps some slight bit of excitement as well; it’s not like she couldn’t have turned this whole event down, right?  
Still, she’s gotten used to the fact that everyone simply sees and refers to her as the new Captain of the guards. ‘New’ despite the fact that she’s been here for weeks. It seems to take some time to stick.

For the occasion, she decided to follow Trynhild’s suggestion that it isn’t all too useful moving around in a full set of armor, and so she’s decided to wear something far more casual. Even while that’s the case, it’s still dunmer based as it’s clothes she brought from home, meaning there’s longer cloth in terms of a shawl and waist sash involved. The whole set comes in collars of yellow, brown and blue, with a striped pattern along the shawl. On top of this, she’s decided to let her hair down. Hers isn’t all too long, but still reaches down past her neck. She can’t claim to feel entirely comfortable like this, but she wants to be able to fit in – that was the whole purpose of coming here, after all.

When she gets closer to the tavern, it’s already possible to overhear a lot of voices inside. Obviously there’s more people hanging out here at this time of the evening, not just those she’s here to meet. She stops for a moment, almost ready to turn back around and just forget about this whole business, but she’s determined to prove herself. While closing her eyes and clenching her fists, she takes a deep breath and slowly lets it back out. She performs this two more times, before her eyes reopen and she nods, approaches the door and opens it. 

Bleakrock village isn’t exactly a big place, so there’s not a lot of people around to begin with, but as the door swings open, and eyes from the whole room turns to her, she soon realizes that quite a few of the village gather around here. Or perhaps it’s just something with this evening?  
In any case, after a few seconds of panicking, she soon notices an arm raised at one of the tables and she realizes it’s from Trynhild, who waves her over. The young nord has a wide smile on her lips, when she understands that Rana decided to come after all. 

Around the rest of the table, she can see the Darj which she’s been acquainted with of course, as he’s also affiliated with the guards as well as being the village’s best hunter. On top of that, there’s Rolunda, which she knows as one of the more spirited people in her guard force, together with her little brother Eiman. Rana isn’t quite sure what the young man does, other than mess with his older sister at times.  
Except for Trynhild, there’s two more of the guard force, probably friends of Rolunda and Trynhild, and naturally Sergeant Seyne. The other dunmer has a spare seat next to her, clearly meant for Rana. 

Most of the people around the table appear rather surprised when Rana approaches them and she feels somewhat awkward when she moves in further. Trynhild’s surprise is probably closer to delight, interestingly enough, while Seyne is the only one with a rather smug expression.  
Rana clears her throat once she’s close enough.  
“Eh, good evening, everyone.” 

Darj is the first one to break the silence from the table.  
“Good evening, Captain. Glad and surprised to see you wished to join us. It’s interesting to see you uh, less formal than usually.” 

Rana eyes the table, seeing that there’s already mugs of mead and plates with different kinds of meat, fruit and vegetables lined up. She sighs briefly as she continues towards the only free seat.  
“Yes well, for my invitation, it was mentioned that this would be just a friendly gathering, so I decided to dress for the occasion.”

“That was the right choice, I believe.”

When she sits down, she gives them all a nod, except for Seyne, who she glares at quickly.  
“Shut up, Sergeant.”

Seyne immediately leans her head back and erupts into laughter.  
“I haven’t even said anything!” 

“You think I don’t know you? I could see what you were planning; it was all over your face.”

Naturally, the Sergeant was and still is sitting with a wide smirk on her face, but she was just going to wait for a more opportune time to really push it. Perhaps that wasn’t necessary, after all.  
“Come now, ease off. We’re not on duty now, so there’s no need for ranks and formality.”

When she places an arm around Rana’s shoulders, the Captain’s glare intensifies, making the others see the amusement in the situation.  
“We’ll see what you think about that, when I punish you for it in the morning.”

A grin spreads across Seyne’s features when she leans a bit closer.  
“Not if I manage to get you so drunk you’ll forget all about this.”

Before any further retorts are made in this little quarrel, Trynhild interrupts them.  
“Well, I think you look very nice at least, Captain. Those clothes are lovely.”

Both Rana and Seyne turns to her, somewhat surprised, while the rest of the table glances at her but then all nod silently in agreement.  
It appears Tryn knows just how to get her smiling and so she offers one towards the nord and nods in appreciation.  
“Thank you, sera Trynhild. It’s…very kind of you to say.”  
She scratches her cheek a bit.  
“And uh, the Ser-…Seyne is correct. I’m off duty, so just Rana will do.” 

Tryn smiles appreciatively at that.  
“Then I believe you can drop formal things for me too. Just Tryn is fine.”

Rolunda appears somewhat amused as well the and shakes her head.  
“Well, if you two are done flirting, I believe it’s time we did something fun instead. Eiman, get your lute out!” 

While Tryn rolls her eyes and sends her friend a glare, there’s still a slight blush across her cheeks at the remark.

\---------

A couple of hours later, most of the group are rather well-fed and at different levels of intoxication, but rather pleased with themselves as well. While it was somewhat stiff at first, most of them soon felt more at ease around Rana, while Seyne was someone they were already quite comfortable with. The Sergeant of course made it easier for them to do so, by messing around or making some jokes at Rana’s expense. She didn’t take it lying down, obviously, but will admit that even she had fun while it happened.

When the group proclaims that they’re going to leave the tavern to have fun elsewhere, by letting Darj teach them how to wield a bow in a drunken state of all things, Rana politely declines and says she’s not feeling all too well, meaning she’d rather stick to the tavern. It’s not fully true, as she can hold her liquor just fine, but still figures she’s had enough fun for the night. When she does though, Trynhild states that she doesn’t wish for Rana to be all alone, so she sticks around with her. The apprentice gets a few odd looks from Rolunda, but the protests quickly die down and while the others leave, Tryn and Rana remain together in silence.

The Captain sits with a half empty mug in her hands, staring into the flames of the fireplace located along one of the walls. Her eyes are a bit blurry, obviously, but she’s still got a nice buzz going. While she can’t claim that the mead has been that enjoyable, once she had a sufficient amount, it sort of helps that her senses have been dulled to the taste.  
Tryn sits still at the other side of the table, sipping at her own drink, but her eyes are instead focused on the Captain, eyeing her now that there’s no one else to bother them. She wanted to praise more parts of the appearance previously, but it’d get into territory where it would really seem like she was flirting at that point, and Tryn isn’t all too eager with rumors spreading. Maesa is already well-aware, but has been kind enough not to tell anyone else. The dark elf does appear far more lovely with her hair down though. That’s not to say that she dislikes the tied up look, far from it, but it’s nice to see her in a more relaxed situation like this. 

While her mind starts to travel to completely different and less decent places, Rana shifts her eyes back to Tryn and nods. Her voice is a bit slurred when she speaks, but she’s got enough clarity to make herself understood.  
“It appears they’ve finally given us some space, so I believe it’s time that I head back home. If I stick around, Seyne will probably come back and try to pour even more of this swill down my throat.”

Tryn giggles softly, and nods slightly.  
“Mm, perhaps you’re right. I should probably do the same.”

Rana watches her and tilts her head to the side.  
“Oh, you don’t have to leave on my account. You could stick around and have fun with the others.”

She shakes her head slightly and smiles softly.  
“Nah, it’s getting rather late and I should really get some sleep. I need to get up in the morning and do some work for Maesa.”  
This isn’t entirely true, and she could probably stick around for a while longer, but this a chance she doesn’t want to slip away. 

Rana strokes her chin for a little while before she responds.  
“Mm, well it is rather late as you say. I believe it’s best if I walk you home.”

This is just what she wanted to hear, but she doesn’t want to make it seem all too easy. Tryn tilts her head and she smiles at Rana teasingly.  
“This is a rather small village Rana, and I’m not exactly helpless. You think I can’t handle the walk home on my own?”

It doesn’t happen very often, and it’s rather subdued, but she gets a short laugh out of the Captain regardless.  
“Oh, I’m certain you can, sera, but I’m the Captain of the guard. Where I’m from, it’d be rather rude to just let you walk home alone, when I’m here to escort you.”

She quickly eyes the Captain and arches an eyebrow.  
“You’re not exactly in the best of conditions either, Captain. You think you’re ready for such a mission?”

“You doubt me, sera?”  
Continuing their little play, Rana puts her hands on the table and then tries to rise with a straight and rigid pose. That ends up being rather foolish, as it gets her head spinning, something that Trynhild notices.

“Take it easy! We’ve still had quite a few drinks.”

Rana manages to grab ahold of the edge of the table though, takes a deep breath and then raises a hand in assurance.  
“No need to fret, sera, I’m doing fine.”  
She does slow down though, when she moves around to approach Trynhild and offers her arm.  
“Now then, allow me to escort you out of this establishment.”

While it’s mostly for fun, Tryn does find her rather charming when she gets like this and she gets up herself with a fairly bright smile, and hooks her own arm around that of the dark elf’s.  
“I suppose I can’t decline such a polite offer.”

“You’ve made the correct decision, sera. Now then, onwards!”  
They both start walking out then, with a few of the eyes of the tavern watching them as they leave. Trynhild giggles slightly when Rana stumbles into the frame of the door on the way out, but the Captain is quick to correct herself. 

As Rana doesn’t actually know where she lives, Trynhild has to sort of take the lead, even as she’s latched onto her companion, offering directions and such. While it is late spring, this is still an isle in the Sea of Ghosts, meaning it gets rather cold at nights. This is perhaps where their drunken state helps, as neither of them really notice. Not that much anyway, but Tryn still takes the opportunity to stick a bit closer to the Captain.  
The cold also helps to freshen their minds up a bit, and walk off some of the blurriness. 

They’re mostly silent for the first few minutes, but Tryn doesn’t want to leave it at that, so she finds something to talk about.  
“I guess you had fun tonight after all?”

Rana had appeared rather reluctant when they last spoke, and she’d felt much the same when she arrived.  
“It was certainly…an experience.”  
She exhales shortly as she gives in.  
“But I will admit that it was a good one. Mostly, anyway. It felt like a relief to allow some people to see me out of the uniform and not just as the Captain.”

This was what Tryn would’ve hoped would occur as well. Not just that of course, as she also wanted the opportunity to see her in that fashion. She smiles and nods briefly.  
“If you wish, I could invite you to further outings that we have. They’re not always like this, but it might still be fun.”

Rana looks hesitant at first but then tilts her head back and forth.  
“I suppose that’s not a terrible idea, but I must consider it case by case. I might attend once more, if you’re there.”

Tryn quickly shifts to glance at the Captain at the remark, but the elf simply keeps her eyes forward. Still, a warm sensation flows through the apprentice and she bites her lower lip as to not exclaim any sort of ridiculously victorious noises.  
There’s only a few more things said in between them, before they finally arrive at the Earth-Turner house and Tryn turns to Rana and gives her a light smile.  
“This is it right here.”

Rana finally meets her eyes again and offers a similar expression, while the untangle their arms.  
“I…well, thank you for this lovely evening, sera. I hope what Seyne said didn’t throw you off all too much.”

The apprentice giggles shortly and shakes her head.  
“Not at all. I’m glad you two are such close friends and it was fun to see you have such a good time together.”

“I did my best. I’ll think of some embarrassing things to talk about her next time.”

It gets a bit awkward now, as they have to say their goodbyes, something Rana isn’t great at. Tryn seizes the opportunity here and bends down enough so that she can place a kiss at the elf’s cheek. It’s fairly quick but still brings a warmth to both of them, while Rana widens her eyes.  
“It…was very sweet of you to walk me home. Thank you.” 

This was a gesture that she’s not all too used to, and so she has some difficulty at first to find her words, but with a shake of her head, she clears her throat and tries to flash a smile.  
“Y…you’re very welcome, sera. I wouldn’t be much of a soldier, if I had left you back there.”

Rana doesn’t move from her location until she’s watched Tryn get back inside, at which point she raise a hand to stroke her cheek shortly. She smiles to herself and shakes her head, before finding a route back to her own place. Perhaps there’s something for her on this rock after all.


	5. Crafted hearts

Last Seed has arrived on Tamriel, the final month of summer. In some areas, this may not really be quite as noticed, other than for the waning heat and possible thoughts of more rain approaching. Especially for farmers, this might of course be important.   
For the denizens of Bleakrock however, it’s rather a sign that the days of winter and snow will sail down upon them, like it does for about six months of the year. 

For the two dark elves that walk on a patrol outside of the village, it’s been a rather lucky time to be here. They arrived just as spring did, and have yet to experience the thorough and long winters that the people up here are used to. In anticipation of this, Captain Rana has tried to prepare herself as much as possible. She’s tried to ask villagers, scouts and guardsmen how they usually perform things and take in advices for how they might prefer to work this out, while of course mixing it with her own ideas. Naturally, Tillrani has been very eager to constantly prod and spread her opinions, just to let Rana and everyone else know what should be done. The Captain won’t let herself just be overrun, but at the same time, taking some guidance from Snow-bourne might be a gateway to a better working relationship.

In general, Rana has had a lot better time during the past several weeks since she’s started meeting with Trynhild and some of her friends. It opened up for others being more willing to talk to her too, and while it’s still not like everyone accepts her, it’s way better than it used to be. Making progress, just like Trynhild has been saying would happen.   
On this day, at a late afternoon, Rana and Sergeant Seyne are wandering through a road on the northern side of the village, discussing tactics and schedules.

“With the increasing hostilities that we’ve heard about in the south, I believe it’s good if we spread our patrols further north as well. We need to know if someone tries to sneak in around the back.”

Seyne nods sharply, keeping a hand on the hilt of her sword, mostly out of habit.  
“Aye, I agree. You really think they’d come along this way though? The Sea of Ghosts isn’t exactly a hospitable place to sail through, and then there’s the Pact fleet close to Windhelm.”  
Many see the Sergeant as a more open-minded and carefree person, something that is true off-duty. When she’s in her armor though, there’s always a more somber air around her, as she takes her job just as seriously as Rana. 

The Captain’s eyes scan the surrounding landscape, glancing upon the rocks and the shallow amount of trees. There’s not much in terms of forests to speak of here.  
“We can never be sure, can we? It’s not something that I intend to remove from the equation, at least.”

“Very well. If you wish, I could talk with some of the others, maybe set a scout along that path as soon as possible.”

“Mm, that sounds like a good idea.”   
As they get to a slightly higher altitude, they can see further along the isle, especially a smaller mountainous area to the north.  
“I’m not sure what we should do about that place, however.” 

Seyne peers at Rana and then follows her gaze.  
“Oh, that one. What was it called again?”

“Rolunda told me the locals named it ‘Orkey’s Hollow’. Apparently something happened there a year or two ago, some kind of accident. Then, there was also that traveler who came here two months ago and disappeared after trying to explore it.” 

“Mm, might be something to investigate, maybe? I could take someone with me to check it out.” 

Rana appears distant for a moment, thinking back to some of the information she had received.   
“I’m not sure if that’s wise. Some of the others have spoken of it like a rather bad place, as if it might be haunted. Even Tillrani has been unwilling to send people there.” 

While that makes sense, Seyne looks skeptical.  
“Surely that’s just superstition, no?” 

The Captain lifts a gloved hand and slowly strokes her chin.  
“Perhaps, but there may still be other things. The cave might be unstable or perhaps there’s some predators who nest in there. Darj has mentioned that there’s been bears spotted around the place, from time to time. I don’t want to endanger anyone needlessly, so for now it might be best to just tell people not to go there.” 

“As you say, Captain.”   
The two of them keep wandering, discussing other similar matters as they make their way back towards the village. They do things such as this fairly often, as Rana trusts Seyne most of all when it comes to security matters. As much knowledge as Tillrani may have, the two dunmer simply work better together.

When they get back to the village though, Rana motions back to the guard house.  
“You can get started on speaking to the others, I need to run an errand.” 

“Oh, alright. Gonna have a word with the blacksmith?” 

For just a moment, Rana appears a bit hesitant and clears her throat.  
“No I…I’m not. Well, in a way, perhaps.” 

This gets Seyne’s attention and she arches an eyebrow inquisitively.   
“What do you mean? Who are you going to see?” 

The Captain looks kinda reluctant to speak of it, but knows it’s probably best to just get it out so that rumors don’t start spreading.  
“I’m going to see Trynhild. She’s made a new sword for me and I have to pick it up and test it out for a while.” 

Suddenly, Seyne starts smirking and folds her arms.  
“Ohh, gonna see Earth-Turner again, huh? You two have been spending a lot of time together in the last couple of weeks.”

Rana shrugs, making it seem like it’s no big deal.  
“Well, she’s…quite pleasant company. But I wouldn’t say that I spend more time with her than anyone else.” 

The Sergeant doesn’t appear like she quite agrees.  
“You sure about that? I seem to remember you two being alone fairly often.” 

“That’s not true. We spend time together on the outings that she invites me to, that’s all. Tribunal’s sake, you have even attended some of them!” 

This is true of course, and they’ve had a rather pleasant time. But Seyne has been seeing some other development.  
“Sure, but at those events, you’ve been getting rather cozy together.”

Rana sighs and rolls her eyes, wanting mostly to just part the two of them here and now.  
“Stop it, we just like talking to one another, that’s all.” 

Seyne’s expression turns even wider when she lifts her hands slightly.  
“No no, I understand. It’s just natural, isn’t it? Two young and pretty ladies with certain interests, wanting some close companionship. I don’t blame you at all, Captain.” 

Somehow, Rana probably should’ve seen this coming. People often begin to assume things when there’s signs, but Seyne is one who just likes to mess with the Captain as much as possible.  
“You’re making this seem worse than it is!”

“What do you mean ‘worse’? Pretty sure you’d like it that way, no?”  
She sends Rana a quick wink and it’s then that the Captain lifts a hand wave dismissively at her.

“I’m leaving. Get back to the damn barracks and focus on your job.” 

Of course, Seyne can’t let her leave without one last remark.  
“Alright, I’ll make sure to tell the others that you might be busy for a few hours in the Earth-Turner house. Maybe that you won’t be back until tomorrow!”

“If you do, I’ll be sure to cut your pay in half for next month!”

\-------

Learning a new style within different crafts, can be quite a taxing and demanding process. One must put in a lot of time and effort into studying and improving as much as possible, as to get just the right effect of what is needed. Trynhild has gone through a lot of that through the few years that she’s been an apprentice and it’s really no different now. 

For the past several weeks, she’s been doing her very best as to understand how to craft dunmer style weapons and armor. This isn’t really an easy procedure just from the perspective of actually understanding how the appearance work, but it almost takes understanding the culture from where it hails – or at least, that’s what Maesa claims.   
As of right now, Tryn is far from being able to claim that she’s truly mastered that style or anything. Such a task would surely require several years, but Tryn hopes to be patient.   
Despite that though, she’s been able to do a very good first effort of creating a weapon, a one-handed sword that she’s sure will be useful for the one who shall wield it. 

If she stops, steps back and contemplates the effort, the time and the focus that she’s put into all this - it’s almost a bit silly, isn’t it? All this work just to impress one woman and hopefully bring them closer. It’s a result that she doesn’t even know if it’ll succeed in what it sets out to do, or if it’s even fully worth it. But then again, if it just brings a smile to the Captain’s face, for something that Tryn has done, then that surely is all that matters. 

She left just a bit earlier today from the smithy, so that she could hurry home and make some last polishes on the blade. It was of course prepared in the forge, but she brought it home, as she figured they could meet after Rana has finished her rounds. Well, the fact that the Captain actually has to pass by her home again, might just be a bonus that Tryn likes to think about. 

When she leaves her room with the sword in its sheath, she already knows she’s not alone in the house right now, and not far outside of the door, stands a young man. He’s at around her age too, but his hair is slightly more to the darker blonde than her golden.   
Littrek, her older brother, eyes her quickly while they’re mostly stuck at the object in her hands. He smiles light.  
“Brought something with you from the forge?” 

The two siblings have a fairly good relationship with one another, even though they don’t actually talk all too much about the most personal of things.   
“Mhm, did so a few days ago, actually.”

He tilts his head and studies the weapon, while Tryn clutches it tightly in her hands.   
“That hilt…doesn’t look much like a nord weapon.” 

Tryn feels somewhat uncertain, but tries to keep it cool while she responds and arches an eyebrow.  
“Oh? Are you suddenly an expert at classifying weapon styles as well?” 

The edge of his lips turns slightly up at her mocking tone and he shakes his head.  
“Obviously not, but I don’t think I have to be. Every guard around town uses them, you know.”   
Tryn simply shrugs, trying to make it seem like it’s not really a big deal, but Littrek is persistent.  
“Let me guess; it’s a dark elven sword?”

Tryn clears her throat then tries to walk past him instead.  
“Look, I have to go meet someone, so I don’t have time to stand here and chat.”

He doesn’t really stop her, but folds his arms as he glances after her.  
“It’s for Captain Rana, isn’t it?” 

She swirls around now, looking fairly distraught, but she quickly tries to tone it down. Too late now, isn’t it? Already revealed everything, pretty much.  
“W-why would you say that? It’s just a sword. Maesa just…you know, wanted me to create something different for a change.” 

His smirk starts to grow, still not really believing her.  
“Tryn…I’m not blind, you know. I’ve been out with the rest of you a few times before and I’ve seen how the two of you have been talking.” 

She hates when he knows he’s onto something, because it’s often the case that he proves to be right.  
“So? I…I spend a lot of time speaking with Rolunda and Darj as well, doesn’t mean there’s anything between us.” 

Littrek nods briefly, but doesn’t intend to relinquish his point.  
“True enough, but those two also don’t manage to bring the kind of smile that Rana does, or make you blush either.” 

“What? That’s…that’s not true!” 

Her brother raises both his eyebrows in a challenging manner, tilting his head faintly.  
“Are you telling me that what I’ve seen is not proof of you having a fairly major crush for the Captain?”

Tryn tries to look away, gazing out through the nearest window instead. Surely, she doesn’t blush that much around Rana, does she? The elf is a very pleasant person to be around and to speak with, plus that she’s got a lot of small quirks and traits that Rana enjoys. The manner in which she keeps her hair, the position she puts her arms just to accentuate her biceps at times, the way she smiles and the fact that she rarely does it – and mostly it’s because of Tryn as well.   
But surely all that doesn’t mean she’s being ridiculously over the top with-  
…okay, maybe just a little bit.   
Eventually, her own thoughts convince her that it’s not really worth fighting a battle over this and she sighs deeply.  
“Yeah yeah, you might have a point, I suppose.”

“Thought so. Don’t get me wrong though, she seems like a nice person, but it is kind of surprising to see you go so far as to create personal gifts for someone.”

Tryn coughs and tries to hide another blush. Thinking of the elf and her feelings, sort of produces that effect.  
“It’s just…I really like her and I want to make a good impression, that’s all.” 

He turns to a smile now instead, that seems to be understanding and nods down at her blade.  
“Does that mean it’s of Morrowind style after all? Or whatever they call it.”

She lifts the weapon further up and turns it around a bit, stroking a hand along the sheath, but doesn’t pull it out.  
“It is, but it’s not really…you know, that amazing. Maesa had to help me some, as I’m still not great with that craft and the patterns they use.”

“But you still made most of it, right?”

She takes a deep breath and nods slowly.  
“Aye. Probably why it looks so amateurish…”

Littrek chuckles faintly, shakes his head and plants a hand on her shoulder.  
“I’m sure it’s just fine, Tryn and more than anything, Rana will probably just appreciate the effort.”

His positive words bring a faint smile back to Tryn’s lips.  
“Thanks, I really hope it does. If she chooses to carry my blade into battle or something, well…”  
The actual thought of that forces her to bring out the effort of stopping another darkening of her cheeks, making her nibble on her lower lip instead. Why is that so exciting? Maybe it’s just that a little piece of her would be with Rana in such a fight. 

He chooses not to comment on that and instead brings it to another subject.  
“Have you told mother and father yet?”

That makes her widen her eyes in shock, just thinking about it.  
“W-what? No, no of course not! It’s…it’s just, kinda early to really say anything.”

“Well, maybe, but they might deserve to know.”

“No!”  
He blinks at her swift effort to push such thoughts back, but she quickly lowers her voice again.  
“I mean…I will, eventually, but I think it’s still way too early for that.”  
Her mother has been going on about trying to convince her of actually going with Otroggar, after all, and she doesn’t know what that woman will think when she’ll speak of Rana. They’re not even really together or anything, yet anyway, so she wants to wait as to not push her mother to do something against Rana, like being embarrassing.   
“That means you too, okay? Please don’t tell them!”

There’s some part of Littrek that surely understands this and so he simply shrugs and sighs.   
“Fine, fine, if that’s the way you want to do it, I won’t tell them. But just so you know, you might have to make up your mind on that eventually.”

“Yeah, I…I know, but that doesn’t have to come just-“

Both of them have to stop their conversation then, as from another part of the house, they hear their mother calling out.  
“Trynhild! Captain Rana of the guards is here. Says she’s come to meet with you.”

Bracing herself, she gives Littrek a serious look, making her brother raise his arms as if he understands and won’t say anything.   
Moments after that, she takes a deep breath and heads out towards the front door, giving her mother a smile, trying to not appear as nervous as she really feels.   
It gets somewhat worse too, when she opens the door and sees how Rana stands outside her house in her armor, gorgeous and fierce as always, talking with none other than Denskar, Tryn’s father. Panicking thoughts quickly race through her head, forcing her to calm herself down.

“Hello there, Rana. What are you two talking about?” 

Both of them turn to gaze at Tryn, but it’s Denskar who speaks first.  
“Ah, I’m just asking the good Captain here about the current situation and what she knows of what occurs on the mainland.”  
He gives the elf a short nod as well.  
“You’re a good soldier, Captain, despite what Tillrani may be saying about you.”

Rana shakes her head and snorts.  
“I’m sure she loves talking all sorts of garbage about me, but that won’t chase me away. I’ve come to like this place and respect the people here, so I’m not planning on leaving.”

Denskar usually isn’t so upbeat, but he gives off a short laugh.  
“That’s the spirit. Give old Snow-bourne a good fight – it’s probably what she’s been looking for anyway.”  
He then looks between them instead.  
“You two have something planned?”

Tryn stands a bit taller and she clears her throat again.  
“Well erm, the Captain asked me to create a sword for her a while ago, by the techniques of Morrowind, so Maesa has helped me study those styles as to aid her in making such a blade.”

As she speaks, one of those rare smiles spreads on Rana’s lips and she glances down at the sheathed weapon.  
“So, it’s really done then?”

“I…I suppose it is, although I might still argue that there’s some last bits of polishing that maybe have to be-“

“May I see it?”  
The interrupting words, joined by that smile, halts any other protests that Tryn might have and instead makes her lift up her blade and hand it over, allowing Rana to take it and slowly pull it out of its sheath. Tryn almost gasps as it happens, wanting to stop the dunmer out of embarrassment for her creation, but manages to rein herself in – especially as the Captain surveys it with a very fascinated and thorough gaze.  
After a few more moments, Rana eventually smiles again and nods slowly.  
“Beautiful. You did a splendid work, I must say.”

It’s surprising to Tryn, how such a word can make her mind spin and heart flutter. Gaining praise from anyone else never has the same effect. She does her best to simply return her expression.  
“Well, I suppose we should uh, test it out before we do anything else?”

“Oh yes, you’re right. You want to join me at the training grounds?”

“I-I’d love to!”

Without another word to anyone else, the two of them start to wander off, heading away closer to the guard facilities in the village. As they do, Aera walks out from the door, standing to gaze after them next to Denskar.  
“Those two are really coming along, aren’t they?” 

He nods slowly and flashes a smile.  
“Mhm, seems like it. Took them a few weeks though.”

“They still have quite some path to go too.”

“Aye probably, but I’m sure they’ll make it. Rana is a fine young lass, I’m sure she’ll make Tryn happy.”

While he says that, Aera appears rather skeptical.   
“You think so? I’m not completely sure if she’s what is best for Trynhild. Rana can get hurt or disappear in battle and such, something that surely would devastate her.”

He turns a gaze to his wife instead, lifting a faint smirk instead.  
“Tryn will just have to make her the best damn weapons in Skyrim then to prevent that, won’t she?”  
Aera sighs and shakes her head, not appreciating the fact that her husband isn’t taking this as seriously as her. For now, neither of them will attempt to break what is blossoming, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'm not actually sure if they've established who is oldest of the siblings, but I guess it doesn't really matter in this fic, so I just assumed it was Littrek._


	6. Last warmth

A cold breeze brushes across her skin as she wanders through the whitening ground beneath the blanket of stars. Autumn has finally descended upon Bleakrock, which to most of its denizens means winter. Everyone isn’t fully confident that this first fall of flakes will really last, but it is a sign nevertheless; the cold is coming and it cannot be avoided.  
Rana has experienced winters before on Vvardenfell and in mainland Morrowind, although of course, they’re nothing like up here in the north or so everyone keeps telling her anyway. It might just be boasting to tell off outsiders or perhaps some way to get an outlet for their frustrations. In any case, this will be her first, and hopefully not last, winter on the isle and despite that she’s not sure if she’s ready for such a long season of ice and snow, she’s still doing her very best to endure.

For the past few months, she’s at least tried to blend in among the citizens to allow them to accept her, and while it’s not perhaps met with complete success, she’s not been excluded from the event that they’re all attending today.  
Pretty much the whole village has gathered around some large camp- and bonfires, in a sort of celebration – or that’s what she was told. Apparently, it’s a tradition which is half-celebration for the first snow and half-mourning for the last bit of warmth disappearing, at least until the next season arrives. Not completely unreasonable perhaps and they’ve stuck with a fairly simple name; ‘First snow feast’. A pretty reasonable name to explain something, even though it doesn’t go into detail what it entails.

When Rana arrives though, she had already a fairly good guess in her mind – she can see people cooking food, drinking, a few hold speeches and some others sing and dance. Isn’t that what most celebrations are, after all? While being invited in among most, she sticks to the few that she’s closest to. This mostly includes Seyne, Rolunda, Darj and a couple of others.  
Naturally, her eyes quickly search for Trynhild among the crowd and while it takes a few moments, eventually she finds her further away, standing by her parents and some other people. It appears she’s helping out to prepare some food and drinks. Somewhere inside, Rana is tempted to head over there and converse with them, but hesitates. She’s already heard some rumors – mostly from and by Seyne, obviously – and doesn’t feel that a public event like this would do anything at all to halt such rumors if she chooses to spend all her time around the blacksmith apprentice. No, it’s best to hold off on that for now.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that they can’t face one another and as an hour or so floats by, their eyes meet fairly often, locking into a firm hold.  
It’s been difficult for the Captain to cope with this situation as a whole. She’s been with a few other people in the past, no question about it, but if she should be honest with herself, it’s always been an awkward subject. She loves being with a partner, and while she’ll deny being shy, it ends up being at least partially true when it comes to love.  
Is that even a proper word to explain it yet? There’s certain…warm sensations whenever she gazes at the young nord, this is true, and she very much enjoys her company, but that doesn’t exactly equate giving her heart. Though, what is the point of actually denying any kind of emotions at all? They’re there and she has to confront them at some point. 

During this hour, she feels as though both of them relay certain portions of such emotions while they stand apart from one another, allowing lingering gazes to do the talking. A few times, Seyne tries to tease her about it, but Rana has been getting better at denying it without getting all too hesitant. It’s unlikely that such measures are actually doing their jobs, though.

It doesn’t help at all then, that about an hour in or however long, when a lot of people have been having their drinks, someone approaches Trynhild and disrupts their eye contact.  
While there’s a large fire burning in the middle, Rana isn’t fully sure at first who it is that approaches, but finally she manages to identify him. It’s Ottrogar, isn’t it? One of the young men that has been showing a lot of interest in Tryn.  
Oh yes, Rana is fully aware that there are several people that want the apprentice to different degrees, but only Otroggar has really been one who’s dared to push the matter. And now, when he’s probably already had a few too many mugs of mead, it appears he’s going at it again, trying to advance on Tryn to the best of his abilities, which usually comes out rather bluntly.  
Rana isn’t actually sure whether or not she’d call the sensations she’s been having about this, as jealousy, because then she’d have to decide whether or not her feelings for Tryn are true or not. Are they? Can she and _should she_ allow them to be? 

As the minutes go by, she tries not to keep her attention all too much on them, while Ottrogar continues his advances and Tryn does her best not to make a scene out of it, while still trying to turn him down. Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head and then pushes her mug of mead towards Seyne.  
“Hold this for me.” 

The Sergeant blinks in surprise as its offered to her and instinctively she just grips it.  
“Uh, where are you going?”

“I have to take care of something.”

Just as abruptly, she leaves the area and pushes herself past some of the people in her way. For a moment, she’s wondering if she’s had a few too many drinks as well, but that may not be honest. She’s gotten used to the taste, but not enough to actually swig it down like a nord.  
Some people turn while she strolls by them, but not too many actually keep their attention at her, and she’s not really trying to gain it from them either. Tryn seems to want to keep this down, so Rana will try to do the same.  
As she arrives behind Ottrogar, she hears the two of them talking and Trynhild sighing deeply.  
“No, I’m not interested, Ottrogar. Please, leave me alone for now.” 

When the young fisherman speaks, there’s a bit of a slur to his voice.  
“Oh c’mon, Tryn, let’s just go off and have a little chat. We can head in behind the buildings over there.”

She rolls her eyes, and while she’s bothered by it, apparently doesn’t see it as much more than a minor annoyance.  
“Not going change my mind on this.”

“Just give me a chance, I promise it won’t be-“

Suddenly they hear someone clearing her throat loudly and both of them swirl around and come face to face with the Captain of the guard. Rana gives them both a look, a faint scowl on her brow and her arms folded. She then speaks in a stern but calm voice.  
“Ottrogar, I believe you heard the woman. Don’t let her repeat herself.” 

There’s a quick and just slightly noticeable twitch of his brow as he peers at her.  
“Oh, Captain…uh, we’re just having a chat, that’s all.” 

“Yes, I can see that and I believe she’s given her answer.” 

Tryn sighs and shakes her head.  
“He’s too thick-headed to really understand.” 

Ottrogar displays a short frown now but there’s clearly some signs of drunkenness in his eyes.  
“I just want her to give me a chance, that’s all.”

Rana exhales sharply on her own now, but she doesn’t truly want to get angry. If he’s intoxicated, he doesn’t really deserve that anyway.  
“And if she wanted to give you one, then she’d have said so by now, don’t you think? But she hasn’t, because she doesn’t want to.” 

He appears slightly frustrated and turns it towards Rana instead.  
“And how do you know that, huh?”

She walks closer to him so that they stand right in front of one another, forcing Rana to gaze up of course. She then places a hand at his shoulder and attempts to give him a solemn look.  
“I just do. If you’d have listened, you’d know that as well.”

For a moment, there’s this expression on him as if he’s about to really get his rage going, but that swiftly dies down. Reason wins out and he instead appears defeated and starts walking off.  
“Alright, fine. Sorry for the trouble, Tryn.” 

Both of the women glances after him as he wanders to some of his friends and then Rana hears Tryn’s voice, now with a smile returning to her.  
“Thanks Rana, that was very nice of you.” 

Rana turns back around and snorts briefly.  
“Bah, it was no trouble. He’s drunk and hears what he wants to.”

The apprentice nods in agreement and then also tries to focus on stirring some kind of stew that’s boiling in a pot nearby. There are some other people around, but most of them are too busy with their own tasks.  
“Well, not just that – you didn’t make a scene out of it either, and I appreciate that.” 

She comes a bit closer as well, leaning against one of the nearby tables and nods.  
“It was pretty clear to me that you didn’t want that, or else you’d have made something of it already, so I just figured I’d follow your example.” 

Tryn seems rather happy with that answer, as well as the fact that they don’t have to stand so far apart anymore.  
“I’m glad that you care for my wishes.” 

“I always do.” 

She has to do her best to hide a coming blush then, but Rana catches it just before she turns away. Because of her own complexion, such things don’t show as easily on dunmer, but despite her certainty, she can’t deny some nervousness as well. That’s probably why she’s keeping her back to the rest of the people, hoping that no one is really watching them. If she sees Seyne having a stupid grin across her face, she’ll probably have to go over there and knock it off her.  
Tryn helps keeping her mind off such matters, though.  
“How are you enjoying the feast so far?” 

Rana clears her throat and peers over towards the bonfire instead.  
“It’s…pleasant enough, I suppose. A bit chilly, I guess, but not all too much.”  
She has chosen to wear somewhat warmer clothes than some of the other denizens. 

With a small smirk, Tryn eyes her quickly.  
“Ahh, can’t handle the cold just yet, Captain? I’m disappointed, after all these months.” 

Rana gets back around and blinks, but then she smiles and shakes her head.  
“Hey, don’t go boasting about how you’re all doing so much better. You’re nords, for Tribunal’s sake!”

Tryn expresses some kind of faux offended look, but there’s still a hint of a smile.  
“Excuse me!? What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You know what I mean. The cold is like, part of you or something!” 

The apprentice tilts her head.  
“What, are you suddenly an expert on anatomy now?” 

“No, of course not, I’m just saying that most of you live up here in the cold.”

“Are you saying that we live up here just because we love being cold all the time?”

Now Rana’s own smile turns a bit wryly as well.  
“What other reasons would there be to want to live in Skyrim?”

Still rather amused, Tryn shrugs.  
“Maybe we just like the scenery?” 

Stopping herself, Rana slowly eyes the nord up and down, something that Tryn becomes rather aware of.  
“I…suppose I’ve seen some rather pretty sights up here, during these months.”  
Tryn widens her eyes and feels a fiercer shade of red come upon her cheeks and she’s caught in a heavy breath at that. It’s a rare occasion when Rana actually outright flirts with her.  
After a few moments without another comment, Rana catches herself and swiftly looks away.  
“…I uh, I apologize. That was just really stupid.” 

Tryn nibbles her lip and faces Rana, not wanting this to break apart. She makes sure that everyone else might be able to handle the affairs with the food and decides to get her apron off and close the vicinity between her and the Captain.  
“Rana, I…was wondering if you wish to partake in a certain…tradition with me.” 

The dunmer gazes back up at Tryn, looking interested but also confused.  
“Tradition?”

“Mm, it’s something that some people…do every now and then during this feast. It’s called uh, ‘Last Warmth’. Not…everyone chooses to participate in it but, I’d want to, with you.” 

Rana appears like she doesn’t quite understand and furrows her brow.  
“That sounds…intriguing, I guess. What does it entail?” 

Tryn smiles shyly and offers her hand.  
“I can show you, but we’d have to walk off alone for a little while.”  
Suddenly, she’s starting to gain some understanding, but decides not to poke around and instead grasps that hand, allowing Tryn to lead her away.

They leave the immediate area of the feast and wanders up on a faintly snowy hill nearby, not just to gain some distance but also some altitude. The nord makes sure that no one is following them, and then turns back to Rana. They don’t see each other quite as well right now, but the light of the stars is still enough. That also helps to hide some of Tryn’s embarrassment. Rana on the other hand, does her very best to keep her voice steady.  
“Right, so we’re alone.”

“Mm, could you erm…close your eyes for a moment?”

Rana arches an eyebrow in confusion at that request, but decides to do as she’s asked, shutting her eyes and then simply waits. She doesn’t have to do so for long and she’s not actually sure that she’s ready – the rumbling sensations in her gut doesn’t give her much of an answer to it.  
Soon enough, she feels how Tryn places one of her hands at Rana’s shoulder and the other at her cheek. The Captain feels some warmth being transferred from it to her cold cheek. That warmth spreads throughout the rest of her body moments later, when Tryn locks her lips around Rana’s into a soft and tentative kiss. 

She wants to gasp at first, but there’s not really any room. A second after that, she either wants to run or just melt into the ground in response, as she tries to get ahold of her emotions. As the kiss prolongs for a few more seconds, she realizes neither of them is what she truly needs and instead raises her hands up, putting them at Tryn’s waist and pulls her closer, as to deepen the kiss.  
They’ve been close before, even sparred a couple of times to test the nord’s abilities out, but none of those can compare to this moment as they embrace one another.  
The kiss is just a bit awkward and uncertain, but that doesn’t take away from the sweetness and the enjoyment they both gain from it. 

It feels like an eternity has past by when they finally separate themselves, at least a couple of inches, to allow one another a brief pause. Tryn quickly breaks out into some nervous giggling, while Rana smiles, brighter than she’s done before.  
“That…wasn’t quite what I had expected.”

Tryn bites at her own lip again, tilting her head slightly.  
“I hope it wasn’t…all too bad, though.” 

Rana’s own laugh is short and breathy.  
“Not at all, it was very very nice. Didn’t know you nords had a tradition for…well, making out, though.” 

Smiling again, Tryn leaves her gaze on Rana’s lips instead.  
“Well…you know, not every tradition is all that known or adhered to.” 

There’s a short shake of the Captain’s head as she slowly strokes hand up Tryn’s back, a sensation that the nord relishes.  
“There’s no such thing as a Last Warmth, is there?”  
No real response from Tryn, other than a fiercer blush which Rana can actually see from this close proximity. Therefore, she just smiles in return.  
“Well, I suppose that means it doesn’t have to be the last then, right?”

The slightly mischievous look in Rana’s eyes is met by approval from Tryn as the two returns to enjoy the taste of each other. The other festivities for the night can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I apologize for this, I'm not really good at actually writing romantic scenes. They never turn out like they appear in my head._


	7. Tender climates

The autumn snow has properly fallen upon the isle of Bleakrock and sending it into a sort of slumber that lasts for many months. At least that’s true for the plant life of the land, but the rest goes on as normally for most of the humanoid denizens, and while it could be pointed out that they see somewhat less trade from other areas than Skyrim, that doesn’t stop most of them from continuing their tasks and lives.   
This is just as much true at Maesa’s smithy, perhaps even more so because they can effectively push away the cold by working by the warmth of the forge.  
At the end of the last winter, Trynhild was seriously contemplating whether or not she should try to leave her home within the next year or two, to strike out on her own and find adventures, perhaps a new way of life. Those plans aren’t gone or anything, but thanks to some particular changes during spring and summer, it’s now being washed away from her mind, at least temporarily. Perhaps if a certain Captain will find some time far into the future, they might just continue along those lines, but Tryn doesn’t feel the need to push that yet.

As she stands and works by the forge, hammering away on some of the latest pieces of equipment that she and Maesa are putting together into a shipment to sell, Tryn finds herself alone for a little while when her teacher had to step out to handle some business. This doesn’t last all too long though, for the wooden door soon swings open, making the apprentice glance across her shoulder.   
She’s met by a familiar pale blonde head, sitting on top of a woman in lighter armor, who waves and flashes a bright smile her way. Rolunda is clearly far from the thought of grouchiness such as one might expect from some guards. 

“Good morning! You busy?” 

Tryn feels slightly suspicious at such a positive display, but she still returns the expression and a small wave of her own, when she lets go off her hammer.  
“Depends on why you’re asking. I’m in the middle of work, but it’s not urgent.” 

“Great! I was wondering if you could sharpen my blade.” 

Tryn watches how her friend lifts up a sword from the belt and pulls it out from the sheath. She approaches and takes a closer look. Most guards can come and go rather often when they need some kind of sharpening or necessary polishing of their blades – all part of a rather lucrative agreement Maesa has with the Pact force here, which they get a monthly payment for.   
“Mm, it’s not all too bad, but a few dents here and there. What did you do?” 

Rolunda hands it over before she removes her gloves and goes to stand a bit closer to the forge and its heat.  
“Ah, we had to take care of some bandits a few days ago, on the western coast.”

Not a completely unusual occurrence, as they do come here every now and then. Bleakrock is sort of exposed after all and some smaller bands of thugs has been known to see them as an interesting piece to raid.   
“Oh, that’s-…did anyone get hurt?”

“Aye, two of our men got injured pretty badly, but they survived. The bastards thought they could sneak up on the village in the dark, but they underestimated our new scouting schedules and placements.   
While me and a couple of others handled a distraction, Rana led the larger force of guards into a flanking position and simply crushed any opposition. They started fleeing back out to their boats rather quickly after that!”

Tryn seems glad to hear that and she feels it too, taking the sword over towards one of the sharpening wheels nearby. The thought of Rana fighting bandits, probably with the blade Tryn made, is a rather pleasant one.  
“That’s very good! Although I’d never doubt your capabilities to defend us, especially with Rana in charge.” 

While Tryn isn’t really watching her, Rolunda get some kind of amused glint in her eyes and with a smirk, she moves to lean over one of the working benches nearby, keeping focus on Tryn.  
“Speaking about Rana, how is she?” 

Tryn puts the blade on the stone, preparing to work on it, but glances up with an arched eyebrow.  
“What do you mean? You’re the one who works with her.” 

The guardswoman’s smirk grows.  
“Yeah sure, I do, but I’m not asking how she’s doing at her post; I’m asking how she is in private.” 

Tryn’s cheeks starts to darken and she clears her throat, trying to keep her eyes on the task ahead.  
“Ah, well…you know, s-she’s doing fine.”  
It’s not been so long since both of them actually decided to take some closer steps to each other and they’ve not chosen to speak much of it with anyone else either. Or at least Tryn hasn’t. 

Rolunda raises one of her hands, stroking her chin slowly.  
“Hmm, it’s interesting, isn’t it? When she first got here, I wouldn’t have thought that the two of you would end up together. How come you never told me that guards were your type?” 

Rolling her eyes, Tryn continues and has to raise her voice because of the noise.   
“Because they aren’t.” 

“But you’re with one though!”

“Yes, that’s because I like Rana and not because she’s a guard. I like her personality, her posture, her spirit, h-“

“Her well-toned biceps.” 

Tryn turns around sharply with a frown, meeting the grinning face of Rolunda. She wants to deny that claim, but it’s difficult when there’s some truth to it. Perhaps more than she’d like to admit.   
“…she looks…pleasant enough too, yes.”

“Hah! No need to be modest with me, Tryn. I’ve seen how you look at her, you know.”   
The apprentice sighs briefly and tries not to let any further comments disturb her, but she’s not ready just how far Rolunda might go.  
“So, how good is she in bed?” 

At that, Tryn actually has to stop the wheel and sit up straighter. One part of her almost wants to fling the blade right back at her smug friend.  
“Roly! Shor’s bones, what kind of question is that?!”

Rolunda’s grin is even more ridiculous than previously.  
“An earnest one, obviously! You don’t have to be shy either, it’s just you and me here, Tryn!” 

Tryn has to lift her hand and rub her forehead, trying to calm down herself, even more so from the mental images.  
“I’m working! It’s not exactly something I wanna discuss right at this moment!”  
She sets the blade back down at the stone again and tries to proceed, slowly.  
“Besides, it’s not really a very prudent topic for discussion at this time. We’re…well, taking it slowly.” 

Rolunda folds her arms, arching an eyebrow as well.  
“I see. Is that from your side or hers?”

“Both. We want to get a feel of everything first and learn more about each other.” 

She notices that her friend wants to speak about this with a serious tone, and Rolunda doesn’t intend to push it all too far.  
“I suppose that makes sense. Rana kinda seems like a person who’d be sort of shy to speak about that anyway.”  
As Rolunda has experienced Rana’s leadership as a guard, she knows how stiff and stern the woman can be, even though she’s seen her off duty as well and the turns that may take.   
“Have you spoken to your parents about it?”

Tryn is silent for a few seconds, then tilts her head.  
“In…a way, I guess. They know we’re spending time with each other, but I haven’t mentioned to what degree.”

That is a reasonable stance as well, as Rolunda knows they can be rather protective.  
“Heh, well just don’t prolong all too much, or they might stumble into something.”

“Yes yes, I know, my brother has said as much.” 

Trying to busy herself while Tryn works, Rolunda grabs some of the tools nearby, starting to roll a hammer around in her hands.  
“Do you two meet in private at all, though? Have you been at her home?”

Tryn isn’t fully sure how much to reveal, but if she can’t talk to her friend about these things, then is there anyone at all?   
“I…have spent some time in her home, yes. Sometimes until the evening.”

“You haven’t stayed over the night, then?”

“N-not yet, no.” 

Rolunda tilts her head, feeling curious and perhaps more so for how Rana would act.  
“So what do you do?” 

Tryn smiles, shaking her head at the thought of her friend’s prying mind.  
“Well, we sit and talk about ourselves, our opinions and interests. Rana is around our age, but she’s seen a lot more places than me, especially in Morrowind, so I enjoy listening to her telling me about it. She’s also got a flute which she’s fairly decent at and sometimes she plays it for me.” 

The idea of Rana actually playing an instrument is fairly interesting, and gives Rolunda ideas of how to get her to play, perhaps even with Eiman someday. But there’s of course other things lingering in her mind.  
“That’s interesting, I suppose. Do you make out a lot?”

Again with the bawdy questions and Tryn has to roll her eyes.  
“Is that all you really want to know?” 

Rolunda has to laugh for a bit at her friend’s shy attitude and she shrugs quickly.  
“I just want to know how close you two get! And I guess that I’m curious just how good of a kisser Rana is. I think Seyne is too.” 

Tryn widen her eyes and then turns a sharp glare at her friend.  
“Rolunda, you better not talk to anyone else about this. I’m serious!” 

While she’s given a rather fierce tone, Rolunda still can’t help her wry smile. Teasing Tryn is one of her favourite pastimes.   
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I also promise I don’t at all intend to write all the little quirks about your romance down and publish it as a book someday.” 

Tryn shakes her head and lifts the blade in the air menacingly.   
“Roly! I’m the one with the damn weapon in here, I hope you understand that!”

Rolunda tilts her head amusingly and doesn’t appear intimidated.  
“Right, the little untrained blacksmith apprentice intends to threaten a guard.”

“You don’t know what we’ve been doing! What if Rana has spent all our time trying to hone my weapon skills, huh? You’ll be in big trouble!”

Once more, she erupts into laughter and somehow it manages to take the edge off Tryn as well, settling her down and she smiles faintly. Eventually, Rolunda approaches her again and places a hand gently on her shoulder.  
“I’m happy for you two, you know. You ever need anything, my door is always open.” 

Tryn nods and gets back to the sharpening.  
“Yeah, I know. Thanks. The best you can do for me is just…make sure she’s alright out there.” 

“I will, though I doubt she’ll need it.”


	8. Cold star

While Rana and Trynhild has been taking things rather slowly on the physical part of their growing relationship, they do try to spend an increasing amount of time together. Not every day, but at least a few times a week, which may increase the further time that passes by.   
It’s been several weeks since the feast at the start of Hearthfire, and while they don’t spend nights together, Tryn still enjoys the late evening strolls they’ve decided to have whenever Rana walks her home. The nord has a slight problem with Rana then basically going back to her own place all alone, but can’t complain all too much when she gets to spend more time with her. She’d prefer to ask about staying the night, but that’s not quite an option yet.   
Publically, it’s also advantageous because of so few people being outside at that time, as well as the cover of darkness for obscurity. 

This particular day and night however, Rana has been somewhat distant, with her occasionally eyes travelling off to unknown paths. So far, she hasn’t spoken of the reason why that is, and Tryn hasn’t tried to pry all too much either, but it does bother her. She doesn’t relish the thought of there possibly being troubles in between them.   
On their way home, something stirs within the Captain and she suddenly looks up.  
“Tryn, I was thinking that...there’s probably something I should show you.” 

Tryn is intrigued, holding her arm hooked around one of Rana’s. She’s still rather glad whenever Rana decides to use the shortening of her name. It’s an affectionate sign which she enjoys.  
“Alright, do you want us to head back to your place?”

Rana’s eyes again wander, but this time towards the west.  
“No no, it’s not back there. It’s actually-“  
She sighs briefly.  
“It’s probably best if I just show you. Come.” 

As Rana clutches her arm a bit tighter, they turn and walk the same direction the Captain was previously looking. There’s cold winds that pushes past them, but both of them are dressed warmly on top of moving rather close together. Once they reach the edge of the village, they don’t stop either and it appears like Rana intends to lead her down towards a part of the isle outside of the settlement.   
On their way out, they pass by one of the guards, who simply gives them both a quick nod and greeting, but says nothing further. Rana returns the gesture.

After a short stroll, mostly in silence, they arrive at one of the edges of the isle, getting a much better view of the vast ocean all around them. Of course, towards the south like where they’re gazing right now, it ends at the coastline of mainland Skyrim that they can spot. It’s still quite a while away, of course, but impossible to miss. Above them, the stars are joined together by Masser and Secunda on their nightly ride across the skies.   
Rana puts her focus elsewhere though, as the elf lifts her arm and points out towards something along the coastline of Skyrim.   
“You see that?” 

At first, Tryn isn’t really sure where her companion is motioning, something she’s about to point out just before she notices another kind of illumination. From this distance, one might mistake it for a star in among all the others, but it’s somewhat different. The actual brightness of the light is fiercer than the rest and she might almost guess that it’s actually closer to being upon the land rather than up in the skies. She’s uncertain if that’s just a trick of the horizon or not.   
“You mean that…low star? Or whatever it is.”

Rana nods slowly, her expression changing to something more grave.  
“Aye, that’s the one.”

“What is it?” 

There’s a quick shake of her head and a faint furrowing of her brow.  
“I don’t know, and that’s what worries me.” 

Tryn peers to the side again, watching the solemn appearance of the woman she cares for. She clutches Rana’s hand just a little bit tighter, trying to bring some comfort.  
“You think it has something to do with magic, maybe?” 

Rana’s focus is still set on the light, but since her thumb strokes gently over the back of Tryn’s hand, she has acknowledged the touch at least.   
“Possibly, but that worries me as well. What kind of magic would be so large that we’d see it from here? And for so long.” 

“Well, I don’t know much about magic, so I couldn’t really say…  
When did you find that thing anyway?”

She faces Tryn again.  
“One of our scouts spotted it a few days ago. It’s been appearing every now and then during every night since. It’s not always on for an equal amount of time either – sometimes it’s a few minutes, sometimes hours.”

“Have you tried to send a message to Windhelm?”

Rana sighs deeper this time.   
“Yes, I sent a bird just a few days ago but it takes some time for them to get the message and to send anything back. I just hope nothing will happen until they do.”   
She tilts her head, appearing uncertain if she should continue and tell more. This isn’t really business for civilians, but Rana does care for Tryn a lot and doesn’t wish to keep secrets from her – especially not something that may pose a threat.   
“I did receive a report about a week ago, that mentioned something in passing about…lights and daedra. I don’t know how much that is connected and what it actually means, but hopefully we may know more soon.” 

When she says ‘daedra’ it’s Tryn’s turn to feel unsure, perhaps even a tad nervous.  
“This sounds kind of dangerous in that case…shouldn’t the rest of the village know about this?” 

Rana is quick to shake her head in response, determined at least on this subject.  
“No, that would be unwise. We need to know all the facts or at least more of them first, before we make any hasty decisions. I don’t want to instill the village with unnecessary panic. You all deserve better than that and to try to at least feel safe in your homes.”   
She’s then silent for a moment, before emitting a quick cough.  
“Uh, well I suppose that you know about it now but…”

Tryn was just about to point that out, but as this is a serious matter, she doesn’t intend to poke all too much fun at her. Instead she gently strokes her other hand over Rana’s arm.  
“Ah, no need to worry. I believe too much in you and the rest of the guards to really feel unsafe. Besides, I don’t really understand too much about this issue, but as long as you’re here, I’ll not be doing any panicking.” 

It feels almost as a reward then, when Rana’s lips curl into a small smile.  
“I’m…glad that you feel this way. Making you feel safe and secure is important to me.” 

Tryn gives her a quick wink then, before both of them shift their gazes back towards the water. Through their minds, different thoughts swirl and interact, trying to think of what it might mean and the implications of it. Is it dangerous and will it affect them?   
Tryn really hates feeling such anxiousness about things, especially when she has no knowledge of it, and she’s guessing that Rana isn’t all too much for that either. A plan then swiftly formulates in her mind and soon she speaks with a more playful tone.   
“You know, it’s kinda funny in a way.” 

Rana blinks, then raises an eyebrow.  
“Funny? In what way?” 

“The twinkling stars above us, the vast glistering ocean ahead, a gentle breeze across our cheeks as we watch a mysterious light in the night.”  
She then locks her eyes with Rana with a faint smirk.  
“It’s kind of romantic, isn’t it?” 

The realization makes Rana widen her eyes and finding herself at a loss for words at first. She’s not sure whether to laugh or feel it’s an inappropriate comment.   
“Oh, is it? I uh, hadn’t thought about it like that…” 

There’s another smirk on Tryn’s lips as she gently bumps a shoulder towards Rana.  
“Really now? You sure you hadn’t planned a lovely little excursion for the two of us? We’re all alone out here, after all.” 

“No, not at all.”   
Such an abrupt answer forces Rana to take a few mental steps back.  
“I-I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t! I’m not saying I’m averse to doing, you know, that sort of thing together. If you enjoy stargazing or…anything, really.” 

Tryn snickers at Rana’s awkward stutter and leans closer to kiss her cheek.  
“Don’t worry, I’d enjoy any sort of activity, as long as we’re together.” 

Rana appreciates the attention and the insinuation, but does have a hard time doing most of the active part of it.  
“If I hadn’t told you already, I probably should tell you that my skill for romance isn’t exactly the best.” 

It may have some truth, but for Tryn, the sort of shyness which is displayed only makes it more tempting. She lifts a hand to place her fingers around Rana’s chin, making them face one another once more. At times, it’s like she could get lost in all that red.  
“You’ve got more talent for it than you think.” 

While the light disperses in the distance, the two of them are far too busy with the taste and touch of each other’s lips to really care.


	9. Looming blade

A new year shoots in across Tamriel and with it comes more changes than the continent has seen in quite a long time. Reports about an event that people are already calling the ‘Three Banners War’ has spread to many lands and settlements, even to the northern island of Bleakrock. For the villagers, it’s both distant and concerning news. Who really gives a skeever’s arse about fighting for the heartlands in Cyrodiil or the Ruby throne? Some of the soldiers up here may get sent there eventually, but for the most part it won’t mean anything – except of course for the worrying portion. Now that they’re not just an outpost for the Pact but also the most northern settlement in their lands, it’s a possible target for attacks from the enemy. In fact, it could possibly work as a staging point for an invasion of Windhelm, something which is worrying a lot of people already.

One of those people is Trynhild, who’s been feeling anxious during the past several weeks. It’s not just the war however, but also the odd events with lights and bodies which has washed upon their shores. She hasn’t really seen much of them, for they’ve mostly been burnt, but the rumors have spread as soon as one of the fisherfolk has come running to the garrison about it. Strange things are afoot in Tamriel right now, and none of it good.  
On top of this foundation, there’s also the fact that all these things have forced Tryn and Rana apart. Not that they’ve been fighting or anything along those lines, but rather that Rana has been forced to focus a lot of her time on being in the garrison, handling patrols, defenses and preparing possible evacuation procedures. Just as their relationship had been making severe improvements and reaching further heights, these horrid proceedings has forced them to take care of themselves for the time being. 

Not that this helps Tryn all that much. Sure, she can give some time for her own safety, but most of what she can think about when she’s away from Rana is what will happen to the Captain and whether or not she’s safe as well. She doesn’t care what happens to the war or the Pact really, as long as they can get out of this without any losses. Then again, would that be bad to consider? Rana has fought for them for quite some time and probably cares a whole lot for her fellow soldiers. 

One day, when uncertainties are increasingly abundant, she can’t really wait much longer and trying to ease her troubled mind, she heads for the garrison. There’s been talks in the village about the fact that the guards seem to be on the move or that they’re preparing for something large, but no one can really be sure. In their ways of trying to ease the villagers mind by keeping silent, the guards pretty much just make things even worse. 

Once Tryn reaches the officers building, she sees that there isn’t really anyone outside guarding it, so she merely knocks on the door and then opens it, gazing inside. Just as she does, she notices Seyne within, speaking to some other guard, apparently the only one here right now.   
At the very same time, the apprentice twitches in surprise as she hears loud voices on the level above, clearly arguing. It’s not hard to guess who the two clashing would be, for it’s almost always the same. Pretty much the whole village is aware of it at this time.   
She notices how the other guard, trying to get away from all this, salutes Seyne and then nods at Tryn as he walks past her.   
She meets Seyne’s eyes, while she shuts the door behind her, not sure at first what to say.

“Erm hello. I was just coming to see how you’re all doing right now.”

The dark elf is sitting behind a desk, having several scrolls and notes placed all around her, probably reports regarding a large variety of concerns. Just by a glance, it appears she’s probably overwhelmed by it.   
“Oh, Tryn, hello there. We’re doing uh, mostly fine I suppose. I’ve just got a lot to do right now.” 

Tryn nods slowly but then gazes up at the roof as well, while folding her arms.  
“Are those two doing alright?”

“Yeah, they’re fine, just talking about our current strategy and orders.” 

For a moment, they hear Tillrani’s voice even louder.  
 _“What is it you don’t understand, Rana?! You’re going to get them all killed, you damned fool!”_

Next, they hear Rana’s voice, pretty much meeting her in velocity.  
 _“We can’t act before we know all of the facts!”_

_“What facts?! It’s the enemy, they’re out there! If you send that boat, they’ll all die and it will be on your head!”_

_“And what if it’s not?! Are you willing to raise the whole of Windhelm and Vvardenfell’s garrisons, as well as endanger civilians?!”_

_"Captain, you are the one who’s endangering all of Bleakrock! Do you not care for any of them?!”_

Soon, things quiet down to a slight degree and Seyne sighs deeply, rubbing her forehead while Tryn comes closer.  
“It…sounds less like talking and a lot more like they’re just shouting worries at each other.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s a pretty good assessment.”  
She motions towards some of the papers and pieces of notes across the table.  
“You remember the rumors of the bodies? We’ve been receiving a lot more of those as of late, and talks about…well, things that very much concerns the safety of Bleakrock. Because of this, the tension just keeps rising between those two and what with this whole war business going on, we can’t get proper answers and orders in time from Windhelm, or anywhere else really. Everyone tries to focus on themselves, and care little for a backwater place like ours, despite the danger it might pose on everyone, if it’s taken.” 

For most, it’s probably not something that’s so difficult to comprehend. This is becoming an increasing issue and they have to deal with it, and probably quite alone at that.  
Tryn moves to lean against the desk.  
“What about you then? Who do you think has the best strategy?” 

Seyne looks up, and immediately there’s a lot of doubt in her face. She’s probably had to consider this before but hasn’t really been faced with a choice until now, even if it’s not something official.  
“…if I should be honest, I have no clue what I really think. Both of them have experience, even if Tillrani’s is longer, and they’ve both got pretty decent strategies in mind.”  
She exhales and spreads her arms in defeat.  
“I can’t answer it, really, other than to say it’s not my place to do much else than follow orders.”  
Moments later, she doesn’t look as satisfied with such a response, scratching her cheek quickly.  
“Well, I suppose I can add that no matter what, I believe Rana will make the right decision that will benefit all of us.” 

Trynhild isn’t fully sure if that’s just an official response as a subordinate or if it’s really what she believes, but perhaps it doesn’t matter.   
She’s eyeing all the work on the table once more.  
“You seem to have almost too much to do and there’s no one else here. You need any help?” 

There’s a short breathy laugh from Seyne and she nods, seeming almost ready to agree.  
“You know, I’d seriously consider that, but I know you’ve got a lot of tasks to do. I don’t want to push work on you which isn’t really yours.” 

The nord shrugs and appears less concerned at that.  
“Not sure if I agree. I mean, I’ve got a job to do, sure, but a lot of the time I feel like I’m just sitting around and worrying what will happen. I’d rather do something useful.”

Seyne peers up to face her and she can clearly sympathize with such a sensation. She raises a hand and places it gently on Tryn’s arm.  
“Look, I understand how you’re feeling right now. You miss Rana, I get that, and you want to do all you can for her and not be forced to worry. But I believe it’s better if you try to keep to what you know best and take care of things back home. Rana will probably be able to focus more that way and know that you’re doing fine, instead of always being around and having to fear for you. Part of why she’s doing this is probably for you.” 

All of Seyne’s words aren’t too comforting for Tryn but the intent behind it is very much appreciated. Because of this, she offers a small smile and gently pats the back of Seyne’s offered hand.  
“Thanks, you’re probably right. I suppose I shouldn’t bother her all too-“

Suddenly, they’re interrupted as the door on the level above bursts open and then slams shut seconds later. They twitch and wait as someone storms down the stairs and soon enough, Tillrani enters their sights. There’s such a fierce glare across her face that they are forced into silence. The old Captain really has that sort of impression on most people. She doesn’t say anything to Seyne but instead puts her eyes right on Trynhild.  
“That young woman is a dangerous commander and a bad influence on both this village and for you. She doesn’t deserve you.” 

Without another word, she marches towards the front door and slams that in a similar manner to the initial one. Seconds after she does, they hear a shout in rage from the level above and then how something crashes down on the floor, as if being kicked down. Seyne takes a deep breath and stands up, but Tryn raises her hand.  
“Wait, I think it’s better if I take care of this.” 

If anyone can calm down Rana, it’s definitely Tryn. Seyne still doesn’t want to burden her though.  
“You sure? You don’t get to see her when she’s this mad, usually.” 

“Don’t worry, I can handle it. Take care of your work and I’ll see to her.”  
Giving in to reason, Seyne nods and sits back down, while Tryn walks up the stairs.   
It’s true that she doesn’t often see Rana angry. In fact, if she considers it, she probably hasn’t seen the Captain more than fairly annoyed or perhaps with a fierce glare at Tillrani. She’s heard the stories though, how the two of them fight and at times, she’s pretty sure it’s possible to hear them shouting across the garrison. It’s unfortunate that even after all these months, they can’t get along.  
Tryn takes a deep breath when she reaches the entrance to Rana’s office and then slowly opens it up.   
Once she does, she notices how Rana’s desk has been slightly moved to the side, with some of the items on it being knocked down. The chairs both in front and behind has also been knocked or possibly kicked down. Rana herself is standing by a wall, clenching her fists.

“That woman can be so fucking infuriating! I don’t know how she does it, but I’ve never felt the same rage as when she opens her damn mouth!”  
She swirls back around and then widens her eyes immediately when she’s faced with Tryn rather than the one she probably expected.  
“Oh, Tryn! I…I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” 

The nord smiles faintly, closing the door behind as she steps inside.  
“Yes, I figured.”

“Uh, why are you here actually?” 

She nods backwards but comes closer to Rana’s desk.  
“I spoke to Seyne while the two of you were arguing. I came to ask how things are going right now and see if I could help out a bit.” 

Rana glances down and sighs shortly.  
“Ah, I see. Well, I suppose we do have a lot tasks right now.”

“Mm, I could see that on Seyne’s desk. More importantly though, how are you doing?” 

The frown which has probably been on Rana’s face for a while now, quickly returns when she has to think about it and shakes her head.  
“I wish I could say that I’m doing fine, but that would probably be a lie.” 

Tryn thinks about sitting down for a moment, but wants to be ready to offer support, so she refrains.  
“I understand. It’s about the war, isn’t it?” 

“It’s not just that. We’ve got a few situations right now and…well, Tillrani just won’t stop arguing. She won’t wait for a moment and hear what I have to say and simply tries to go her own path, despite the fact that I’m in charge.”  
She clenches her fists again, but tries her best to keep calm in front of Tryn.  
“I just…I know people’s lives are at stake, I’m not a child. By Vivec, I’ve even done this before! But she pretends as if I’m nothing more than an addled netch.” 

Tryn isn’t completely sure if she gets that reference, despite that Rana has explained what the creature is.  
“You’re in charge though, so shouldn’t she follow your orders?” 

Rana glances up at her, actually looking for a moment as if she doubts the nature of her own answer.  
“Maybe. But at the same time, I…I know that she’s got her reasons and they make partial sense. But we can’t act too quickly. Being too hasty can create serious mistakes and cost people’s lives as well.”  
She closes her eyes, while images of the past flashes through her mind. She can’t let this happen again, she won’t allow it.   
“But I just…I just don’t know if what I’m doing is right either. What if I’m wrong and I’ll endanger everyone? I’ll just be performing another mistake then.”  
She slowly strolls across the room and sits down into her chair, with shoulders slumping.  
“Perhaps I’m not cut out to do this. I’m wondering if I should consider stepping down or something as well, and allow someone else who doesn’t have the same history of failure, to take over.” 

Tryn gains a saddened expression as she peers at Rana and just as she’d figured, she has to walk around the desk and stand next to her, placing a hand on the Captain’s shoulder.  
“You shouldn’t say that, because you know it’s not true.” 

“It is true, though. Why do you think I was sent here? I failed the Pact, my superiors and my fellow soldiers, and so I was punished. Now all that could happen again, just because I can’t make the proper decisions.”

Tryn moves behind the chair and leans closer, rubbing her hands across one shoulder each.  
“Rana, I know you’re a good leader, as do everyone else. People trust you and that’s why we depend on you.” 

There’s a bitter smile adorning her lips when she snorts, despite appreciating the touch.  
“I’m sorry Tryn, but you’re wrong. Everyone definitely do not trust me in this place.”

“Bah, Tillrani doesn’t count.” 

She sighs again, opening her eyes to peer out through the window at the side.  
“It’s not just her. Why do you think that some follow her orders instead of mine? I can’t even keep everyone in bloody line…” 

Eventually, Tryn feels that she can’t let Rana plummet so far, and therefor she moves slightly sideways and strokes her arm around to let her hand gently grab Rana’s chin and make the Captain turn her head, so that the two of them can face each other once more. Tryn is close as they do, as well.   
“Listen to me Rana; _you are a great leader,_ okay? Do you know how I’m sure of this? It’s not because you have the best strategies or always make the right decisions or so, but because you care. You’ve been here less than a year and I’ve seen, heard and experienced the amount of thoughtfulness in which you put into your work and our safety. That’s a very good sign of what makes a proper leader in my mind, at least. It’s good to have the other things too of course, which you do, but that we matter to you, is very important.” 

Rana is brought into silence by the amount of certainty and depth that Tryn puts into each word and to focus their eyes into unison. She feels the gentle touch against her chin and one lower at her neck as well, and she’d be lying if she proclaimed that it wasn’t soothing. To a great degree, in fact.  
The Captain isn’t completely sure if Tryn can really make the best assessment of what a military leader should be, as the apprentice doesn’t have any experience of it, but it’s very touching nevertheless. So much in fact that it washes her anger and annoyance away and she shifts to a small smile instead. 

“You’re far too kind to me.” 

Tryn returns the same gesture and moves the hand from Rana’s chin, up along her cheek instead.  
“I disagree. I’m being just as much as you deserve. Which is a lot, I might add.” 

It even goes so far that Rana snickers gently, and makes the choice that she’s going to get herself out of this misery. Or at the very least, once she’s done kissing this beautiful woman for a while, she’ll get right on that.


	10. The hearth smoulders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There's some fighting in this, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to classify it as "graphic" really, as it's not exactly gory. I'll change it if there's a lot of disagreement with that, though._

Screams of pain, erupting explosions, clashing of metal – the citizens of Bleakrock are thrown into disarray as war has arrived upon their shores. There’d been a tension in the air all around, from recent events, but none of them had anticipated an all-out attack. Why would anyone wish to hurt the people here anyway? They had a very small amount of troops and the villagers would most likely have given up, rather than fight for their lives.  
Trynhild isn’t even sure she’s ever seen orcs, redguards or bretons before, at least not many of them and now she’s watching in terror as they tear apart the only home she’s ever really known. 

While Tillrani and some of the others had tried to set up an evacuation plan, once they realized that it was truly the Daggerfall Covenant’s forces that was coming down upon them, it wasn’t in time to evade the attack. Soldiers swooped down from every corner, hunting down people and setting houses on fire. In panic and fear, Trynhild doesn’t know where to run at first, and quickly makes her way towards the smithy. There’s weapons inside, right? She has to find some way to defend herself.  
Once she arrives and starts looking around, taking anything that seems good enough, she stops for a moment and tries to assess herself. There’s no doubt about that she’s afraid, never having experienced anything like this before, but she wouldn’t have anticipated this extreme reaction. Listening to the noises outside doesn’t help either, as it makes her contemplate just staying here and hoping no one will find her. There’s no reason for anyone else to enter, right? Best just to stay. 

She’s set upon a dilemma, as she also wants to know what’s happening to her friends and loved ones and while she hesitates, she’s thrown out of her thoughts by the front door bursting open. Some part of her is hoping for a split-second that it’s going to be Maesa, Rolunda or anyone else she knows and cares for, but the cynical side is already certain of what’s going on – and it ends up being correct as well.  
Turning around, she’s faced with a young, short and light-skinned man standing in the door, holding a longsword in his hand. From a glance, Tryn’s experience is telling her it’s steel, but that doesn’t matter as much as the blue banner and lion crest adorning his body. He doesn’t even need to give the area a good sweep, as he quickly sees Tryn and when he does, both of them appear rather distraught. She’s not sure why he would be, but perhaps he was hoping he’d have to face some grouchy and rebellious old man, rather than who he’s currently looking at. 

Despite the initial distress, the breton soldier soon tries to gather his courage and marches towards her. She grabs a blade of her own, but her hands are shaking and she’s not sure if she’s even holding this correctly or not.  
“Please, don’t!”

Pleading gets him somewhat out of balance and when he launches at her, the swing of his blade that hits hers isn’t as strong as it might’ve been. She hears him stuttering.  
“I…I’m sorry for this.” 

It makes her wonder if he’s doing this because he has to, or if he just doesn’t want to cut down a pretty lady like her. Either way, it actually raises some kind of notion of anger within her, beside the looming fear. It doesn’t actually help her much though as he’s actually better trained than her and she does her best to use one of the workbenches as an obstacle in between them.  
“Just leave, dammit! You don’t have to do this!”

There’s no response from him this time and he tries to outsmart her, while she at the same time tries to form some sort of plan. How in Oblivion is she going to get out of this? She can’t kill a soldier in a fair fight, she doesn’t even know if she can swing her blade well enough for it. Even if she’s fairly strong, he’s way faster and more agile. On top of that, what would happen if she just ran? He’d either cut her down or there’d be someone outside finishing the job.  
It’s at that point when she spots the forge, as Maesa hadn’t thought to close it down before the gathering they had not too long ago. They just had to run, after all. The problem for her though, is actually getting to it, as he’s standing along the path to it.  
There’s but a few seconds that passes by as he occasionally tries to reach out with his blade across the workbench, and she evades it. He could try to jump across, but probably fears her just impaling him when he’s so exposed. 

Feeling that this deadly version of cat and skeever has to end, she tries to trick him to one side and then make a run straight for the forge. Unfortunately, he’s not so easily fooled and instead of smoothly reaching the forge, she feels how her side almost burns as he lashes out with his weapon across the table. With the speed she has, Tryn instead basically crashes right into her goal, just barely managing to stop herself at its side. She emits a faint scream in pain, clutching her side while she does. There’s no need for her to look down, as she knows her glove will be stained with blood. At the very least, it doesn’t appear to be too deep.  
Gathering her remaining strength and courage, she peers down into the forge and seeing the burning coals as well as the tool nearby, which they usually use to stir them. From behind, the soldier inches closer rather swiftly, intending to finish his work. What he’s not ready for though, is how Tryn suddenly whirls around, the tool ready in her hand and with a very effective throw, she hurls some of them directly onto him. One of them actually manages to hit him right on his face and he screams in pain, starting to stumble back towards the door as he tries to frantically brush the fire off his skin. 

That’s when it hits him, and how her trick worked just as efficiently as she’d hoped. It really saved her life, perhaps only momentarily, but it’s enough for her to grab her sword that dropped to the ground and force herself forward. In a mad rush and with a short battle cry, she doesn’t really try to swing her blade in any fancy way and just aims to pierce him straight through with her weapon. It succeeds and he’s thrown back at the force of the impact, slamming into the wall right next to the door. His eyes are widened in fear and pain, one hand clutching the sharp piece of metal which is basically draining him of life. 

Tryn is gritting her teeth, focusing on holding him against the wall and just hoping that he’ll stop moving eventually. After several harrowing seconds, she realizes that he’s pretty much gone already and she’s just been holding a dead body in the air. The impact was so successful that the blade is almost pierced through both him and the wooden wall. When her rage has dissipated enough and she drops the blade, both him and the weapon fall down to the ground however.  
As the sound around her almost seems to disappear, she feels herself panting harder than she’s ever done and she gazes down on the ground. The floor is quickly being filled with a pool of red and Tryn has to take a few steps back. She watches his still bod-  
…no, his corpse, lying there on the ground. It’s difficult for her to really comprehend what just happened and what she’s done. She just killed this man, didn’t she? She’d never thought about that she would ever be forced to do such a thing and now that her first kill lies below her feet, she’s not sure what to think. It’s almost unreal in the way she’s looking at it. Sure, she’s joined Darj on a hunt once or twice, but that never really felt the same way. This was a person, a human like herself albeit shorter, probably someone with a family and loved ones of his own. Now, they’ll never see him again.  
At the same time, he’s the enemy, isn’t he? He ran in here and tried to kill her first and she merely acted in self-defense. Even while trying to make this excuse, she’s not sure what to think or what to say. 

While she’s stunned and caught in her own doubts, the door suddenly slams open again and this time, it’s far from something timid like this little breton. The man who slams open the door now, wears an armor which is far more jagged and his body is several sizes larger. Added to this, she can see fierce and sharp tusks in his mouth and sturdy gaze which was nothing like the uncertain young man. This orc is experienced in the arts of war and battle, and doesn’t hesitate for a moment. This is unfortunate for Tryn as she’s not really ready for it. He’s quick to assess the situation, especially with his fallen comrade on the ground and grits his teeth. Tryn doesn’t even have a chance to protest this time as he reaches out and kicks her straight in the gut. The blow is so strong that she’s thrown to the ground and loses her breath instantaneously. She just barely manages to start coughing when he raises his battleaxe above her…

…but no blow comes to her body, for instead she hears a different kind of noise from above. It’s actually quite similar to the gasp and groan which she heard emitted by the young breton when she killed him. Glancing up quickly, she sees the tip of a blade poking out from his own chest, before it’s pulled out directly after. The orc takes a few shaky steps away, until he’s simply thrown aside to reveal someone completely different and the sight fills Tryn with such relief of which she’s never felt before.  
“Rana!”

“Tryn! Thank the Three, you’re alive!”  
The Captain rushes to aid her beloved and with her one free arm, helps her back up. 

When Tryn gets back on her feet, she immediately catches Rana in an embrace and with all the things going on right now, she feels her emotion brimming and pushing up through her. As she rests her head against Rana’s, she senses how tears stream down her cheeks.  
“Oh Rana, you don’t know how glad I am to see you!”

Rana doesn’t say anything at first, but as she hugs Tryn back just as tightly, it pretty much tells the whole story. They don’t linger all too much on it though, for they really can’t at this stage. It is enough for the Captain to actually notice something poking through the nord’s clothes.  
“Tryn, you…you’re bleeding!”

She nods faintly and shivers even more than she did previously.  
“Y-yes, that Covenant soldier, he…he managed to…”  
She lifts a hand to try to wipe her cheeks.  
“Rana, it was horrible. He didn’t want to do it, really, I could see it when he came inside. I wanted t-to talk things through but he wouldn’t listen. He cut me and…and then I threw coals at him and-  
I had to…  
Swallowing again, she tries to steady her voice, but it seems like an impossible task.  
“I had to…oh gods…”

With the stuttering and the slight sobs, she can’t fully emit what she wants to say, but Rana gets the message. He is lying there on the ground, after all. Rana, more used to battle and killing in many various ways, has to be the steady one here and so she lifts a hand to Tryn’s cheek.  
“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me. I know you’re not used to this, but it’s okay. You did good, alright? You did very good.”  
Tryn closes her eyes, trying her best to stop the flood of tears, while she nods her thanks. It’s just reassuring for her to simply hear Rana’s voice.  
“Listen to me, Tryn, you’re hurt and need someone looking after your wounds. I need you to head towards the tomb near the village to the south. Do you understand?”

Finally, Tryn manages to open her eyes again and peers confusedly at Rana.  
“What? But…no, I-I want to be with you!”

“You will! I will go there as soon as I can, but I’m trying to gather up the other villagers. I need to save as many as possible, but I’m sending everyone towards that tomb. We’re going to use it to escape.”

Actually leaving Rana’s side sounds like the least she’d want to do right now, but she might be forced to.  
“What? How? That old place doesn’t lead anywhere other than to the coast.”

“Exactly, and I’ve arranged for some people to help us. We just need to get through this together and then it’s over.”

“W-what about my family though?”

“Tillrani and Seyne are helping me gather them up. Darj and Rolunda should be down by the tomb already. I need you to go there and meet with them.”  
She strokes her hand down around Tryn’s and clutches it.  
“Do you trust me, Tryn?”

Like she’d even need to ask. Tryn nods quickly, finally manages to get ahold of her tears.  
“Yes, of course I do.” 

“Good, then go there. Hurry, and we’ll meet down there in a few minutes.”  
She pulls Tryn a bit closer and the two of them join in a quick albeit very needed kiss, just before they allow themselves to separate and head to their different destinations. 

When she sees how Tryn runs as fast as she can to the docks and no Covenant soldier standing in between them, she throws a sweeping glance around the village, wondering where she should go next. In it, she can already see several of her remaining guards lying on the ground, along with a few Covenant soldiers here and there. Things have gone awry so quickly and Rana feels the guilt growing within her. She can’t allow remorse or sorrow to grab her just yet though, as she still have people to save.  
Within the sweep, her eyes captures Tillrani moving around not all too far away, with three or four Covenant soldiers trying to overpower her. They don’t seem to be ready for how deadly she can be with two axes in her hands though, but it doesn’t appear like it’ll last for all too long.

Knowing it’s the only thing to do, Rana clutches her sword harder and lifts her shield from her back and attaches it to other arm. With a fierce shout, she charges into the battle and slams it straight into the face of an orc warrior, just as Tillrani parries a redguard’s blade. The two take down at least one pair of fighters each, before they now stand back-to-back, trying to find any other Covenant soldiers that might have a go at them. Tillrani calls slightly over her shoulder.  
“You found anyone yet?”

“Aye, I’ve tried to send them all down to the tomb.”

“I assume you’ve already spoken to that smuggler then.”

An archer pop up from a rock to the side and tries to fire at them, but Rana gets her shield up just in time, blocking the arrow. Seeing her chance, Tillrani moves up beside the other Captain and hurls one of her axes straight forward and in a beautiful maneuver, gets the marksman straight in her chest. They relocate to that position now, while still focusing on their conversation.

“Yeah, he’s ready to take us south as soon as we’ve got everyone we can.” 

“Good, then you should probably get to that.  
Do you know what happened to the newcomer?”

Of course, the new arrival to the village, someone who came as if out of the sky just a few days ago. In fact, Rana is willing to believe that she did in fact drop from the sky as she was found out in the water, unconscious and not even wet. The Captain has no idea who the woman is, but she’s not about to complain as the stranger has aided them with gathering up villagers, when she was low on manpower. At least one good thing in all this bloody disaster.

“Aye, I sent her up towards the watchtower to light it. Only one who could do it, really.”  
As she hears footsteps going away from her, Rana raises an eyebrow and turns to see Tillrani running towards it.  
“What are you doing?!”

The old Captain stops for just a moment to glance across her shoulder.  
“The Covenant is preparing an ambush on her. After all she’s done, I can’t allow her to die here! You should continue to gather everyone up though and leave if none of us make it there soon enough.”

The reasoning makes sense, but that guilt only grows as she thinks about how much she’s failed this place and this nord especially.  
“Tillrani!”  
The old Captain was just about to leave again, but gives Rana one last glance and to her surprise, sees the elf’s eyes filled with remorse.  
“I…I’m sorry. For everything.” 

Tillrani meets her eyes and if it was any other day or any other situation, there’d probably be a lot of mockery and gloating at this point. But as their home burns around them, she can express nothing but understanding and so she gives Rana a short nod, before she shifts to the direction of the watchtower and charges into battle once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yeah, I know I said I wouldn't have the Vestige in this and I suppose she really isn't, but I felt they needed to at least mention her. So yeah, fem Vestige of unknown origin._


	11. Drifting among shades

The waving, cold and silent Sea of Ghosts spreads out before their eyes, filling their views but not their minds. The people on the ship should be feeling safe right about now, to finally be getting away from all the hardships they had to endure on the isle which is slowly becoming less visible. But none of them really feel it, for what they leave isn’t just the fight but their very homes and a lot of their loved ones who will be lost forever.  
Captain Rana is leaning over one side of the railings, peering out towards that lonely rock in the ocean, which was supposed to be an opportunity for her to change everything in her life. Well, in several ways, it’s altered a lot of things but not quite in the way she would had hoped or expected. It was supposed to be a second chance, something that could make everything right. Instead, she feels as though she’s plummeted into one of the deep pits of the Oblivion and every little piece around her is crumbling. 

She’s been hesitant to gaze upon the deck behind her, but eventually she’s got to force herself to do so.   
There’s a surprisingly few amount of people that made it off the isle. Sure, she managed to get a few dozens of them, but clearly not enough. Where the rest were, she couldn’t really say, but from some of the slaughter witnessed in the village, it’s quite likely that whomever didn’t reach the tomb in time is dead now. This feels like yet another failure and descent in her already fairly miserable career. Somehow, this time it’s almost worse than back in Pelagiad. At least that time, it was mostly about failing the military and living up to their standards. It’s far worse here, as a lot of people have died because of her decisions. Not just anyone either, but innocent civilians who wasn’t supposed to get involved in this war. Perhaps the truth lies in that there’s no chance for them to really avoid it. She tries to focus on the fact that some people managed to survive at least.

One of those who did, and which she’s still thanking Vivec dearly for in her mind, is the beautiful golden blonde-haired woman which she’s now approaching.   
Tryn is located by a similar side as Rana on the ship, leaning against the railing but in a sitting position, rather than standing. Her eyes glance out between the gaps in the wood, watching the waves of the water below them, and the home which was torn from her, slowly drift away. When Rana comes closer, she can see the lines around those eyes, traces of many tears which has already fallen. Right this moment though, the young nord doesn’t appear able to shed any further ones. 

“How are you feeling? Did your wound get treated?”

Tryn turns her gaze up at the approaching dark elf, before she pats her own side softly and nods.  
“Mm, Rolunda helped patch me up when I got to the tomb.” 

Rana seems relieved to hear it. She usually tries to appear more dignified and probably wouldn’t go and sit on the floor, but after all this sorrow, there’s not really any point to keep to it. Still in full armor, she places herself next to Tryn on the ground, removing both of her gauntlets so that they can hold hands. The nord doesn’t wait for long either and leans her head now instead against Rana’s strong shoulder, despite the metal being in the way.  
“I’m glad you managed to get to the tomb. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”   
She lifts her free hand to stroke it through Tryn’s hair.

“Everyone wasn’t as lucky, though…”

It breaks Rana’s heart to hear the sorrow and exhaustion in Tryn’s voice.  
“I…I know. I’m sorry we couldn’t get more of them out.” 

“I just…I can’t believe why they’d do this. Bleakrock is nothing special, just an isle in the middle of nowhere. I never thought anyone would care about us.”   
With Rana’s military sharpness, she’s almost prepared to point out the strategic value of which Bleakrock is located, but soon washes those thoughts away. No need to make matters worse.  
“So many people are gone. Maesa, Holsgar, Narrald…even Ottrogar…”   
There’s more of them, but she’s not able to draw it all out in front of her. It’s a list that would pierce her soul.

Sighing briefly, Rana shakes her head and thinks back to the last few moments she saw some of those they left behind.  
“…me and Tillrani fought against those bastards just before she left to aid the newcomer. I tried to tell her that I was sorry, but…”

Tryn gazes up then, enough for her to see the sadness in Rana’s eyes. She raises a hand to gently stroke against Rana’s cheek on the opposite side.  
“I’m sure she understood, Rana. You did what you had to do and she would appreciate that much.” 

The elf shakes her head, closing her eyes as well. This isn’t how things should’ve ended.  
“It’s not just that.”  
Others are around on the deck, so she lowers her voice to keep this between them.  
“All of this – the massacre, the failure of the guards, the loss of our homes – it’s my fault. I should’ve listened to Tillrani and kept her words more in mind. But no, I couldn’t, for I decided to just keep to my own stubborn reasoning and that she was simply being paranoid.”

“Don’t speak like that. You couldn’t have known and you did what you thought was best.” 

“Aye, and what I thought was best lead to the death of so many people. Bleakrock will now be no more than a memory and I will forever be known as the woman that led its downfall…”

There’s not really enough energy in Tryn to make a proper retort, and to cheer her beloved up. She wants to, but after all this grief and the thought of possibly more to come, she’s too distraught to muster up the effort.   
“Rana, you can’t think like this. The Covenant, they…they might still come after us, yes? We need someone to lead us still.” 

“You deserve a better leader. I’ve already said this, but it’s true, now more than ever.” 

Tryn tries to push at her cheek, forcing Rana to make them look at each other again.  
“Do we have anyone else? Is any one of us who’s actually made it off here, capable of leading us like you do? We’ve lost our home…and a lot of friends. You were at least the one who kept your mind clear enough to lead some of us out. You did all that you could in this horrible situation and only you can get us through this.” 

Doubt still lingers and Rana doesn’t appear completely convinced. Perhaps she’s uncertain of her own capabilities or maybe she just doesn’t want to.  
“Even if I might lead you all into another downfall?”

The nord sighs briefly and nods slowly.  
“You managed to salvage some of it, yes? Without you, I’m sure we won’t be able to find anything but death anyhow.”  
Rana’s eyes slowly wanders, but she feels Tryn’s gentle fingers stroking her skin.  
“Please Rana, we need you. _I need you._ Don’t give up on what little we have left…” 

The pleading hits right home, despite the fact that Rana wishes to just plunge herself into the sea with so many others of the fallen. Tryn is right, and the Captain can’t be allowed to surrender those she’s come to care for so much.  
“Alright, I will try my best, at least for a little while longer. If you really believe in me, then it’s all that really matters.” 

She can’t really muster up a smile at this point, but Tryn does still lean her head even closer, placing it next to Rana’s neck, just below her chin. The elf raises her arm around Tryn then, to properly embrace her. All of this would be funny, seeing how they’ve tried to be subtle with their relationship before and now just throw that out the window to let everyone gaze upon them in public. It isn’t funny though, as it just ends up being a result of pain and suffering, at least letting them find some sort of comfort in each other’s arms.   
Trying to get their minds off the loss for a moment, a question pops into Tryn’s mind.  
“Where are we headed now?”

Rana lifts her gaze, out towards the sea once more.  
“South. I’ve asked the small crew here to take us towards a place known as Bal Foyen.”

“Is that on Vvardenfell?”

“No, it’s part of mainland Morrowind, south of Vvardenfell. I’m sure the island can be seen from that location though.”  
Rana did consider at first if they should try for Sadrith Mora or possibly Vivec city, but that would be a foolish endeavor. She’s not sure there’s proper defenses against a whole invasion force sweeping down upon it and she’s fairly certain it’s not actually their end goal.  
“I’ve considered if it’s really the safest place to go, but I think we need to make for Davon’s Watch. Or at least as close as we possibly can. The smugglers offered Bal Foyen and it’s probably best for us anyway. We could hide there and warn Fort Zeren of the approaching Covenant force. I’m sure they’ll try to make it their staging point for an invasion, hoping to reach both the Watch and Mournhold.” 

Maybe it’s actually a gamble to try to go all that way, and she might put everyone in danger once more, but she needs to get word to someone important. If she doesn’t, it’s possible all these people might just get attacked again, when the Covenant carves their way across Morrowind and she can’t allow her homeland to fall either.   
Either way, Tryn seems too tired and not very interested in speaking about military strategy right now.  
“Bal Foyen…not sure you’ve talked about that place. What’s it like?” 

Rana blinks, slightly surprised at the question at first, but soon a smile grows upon her lips.  
“It’s…rather pleasant, actually. There’s not a lot of significant military placements there, except for the Fort, but the land itself is quiet and soothing. Argonian slaves used to be held there, but it’s now been offered to them to rebuild on, from their former masters. I guess they like it, because it’s kind of swampy. I believe they grow saltrice and other crops there, as it’s fairly good for farming.  
I think you might like it.”

It is Tryn’s turn to close her eyes, trying to imagine the place before her.  
“Are there any of those big mushrooms which you talked about?” 

The Captain glances at her and strokes her thumb at the back of Tryn’s hand.  
“Yes, there’s a lot of those around in every part of Morrowind, and Bal Foyen is no exception. Most of them are as tall as trees and houses, some go beyond even that.” 

It’s rather comforting to see a very faint smile curving up across Tryn’s lips as she considers it.  
“I can’t wait for us to arrive, so I can see it. Do you think they’ll have any of those guar there?” 

“Oh, definitely. Both argonians and dunmer raise guar for food, resources and as companions. If you’re lucky, we might even see a few netches.” 

Tryn doesn’t really seem to care that it’s supposed to be uncomfortable to lie on top of someone in armor, for she just feels the comfort of sitting by Rana’s side, so much now that she basically climbs up into her lap and lies sprawled up against her. She needs to be close to the Captain right at this time, no matter what.  
“I look forward to seeing some. If there’s any addled ones, I can finally compare you to them.” 

Despite the sorrow, the failure and the anxiety of oncoming events, Rana allows herself a faint snicker at the thought of it.  
“We will, my dear.”


	12. Our ashen field

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I guess people have noticed but all of this is kind of like, what happens in between the times when Vestige is gone, really._

A gentle breeze from the inner sea blows past them, bringing with it the smells from the area around them. In the distance, they hear the mixture of light grunting of guar and gentle humming sound of netches floating above the saltrice fields. Bal Foyen is a very gentle and laidback place, at least when it comes to the amount of people and the calm which inhabits the land. It’s perhaps similar to how Bleakrock was, except the cold. And just like the isle, it’s about to get hit by a wave of chaos. 

Rana was and still is certain that the peace in this land won’t last for very long. The Covenant is probably coming after them, not willing to give up until they have what they need. Most of that will undoubtedly end up wrecking these lands until they submit, something that the Captain isn’t willing to do.   
After they got off the smuggler’s ship, the remaining villagers from Bleakrock followed Rana to the coast and helped set up a camp outside of a small argonian village, known to people here as Dhalmora. The reptilian folk in this place has shown to be rather friendly, having offered food and drinks, only for some minor payment in return. Rana isn’t actually sure if that’s because of some notion of hospitality or for the threat of the Covenant looming above them now. Maybe it doesn’t really matter, either. 

She’s decided not to keep the truth from anyone either and has informed every one of the refugees, as well as the argonians, what they’ll be facing and that they may suffer a grimmer fate, unless they flee further or possibly join in to defend Bal Foyen. While she did, she sent the newcomer on to Fort Zeren to speak to the soldiers and get all of them ready for what’s to come.   
While Rana stands and discusses matters with Seyne, Rolunda and Darj – perhaps the only three properly battle-minded individuals left from the isle – they see how Trynhild approaches them. She and Rana have stayed close to each other during the trip here, but the Captain has wished to keep her away from any fighting that’s about to happen. Unfortunately, she immediately notices a sharp glint in Tryn’s eyes, the closer she gets.

“Sorry to interrupt. You’re all discussing the coming battle, I suppose?” 

As everyone knows by now how close they are, the others leave the initial conversation to Rana. Not that she looks very pleased about it, though.  
“Yes, that’s right. Is there anything you wished to mention about it, or…?”

Tryn nods quickly and folds her arms.  
“Aye, I want to join you.”

“What, in discussing tactics? I’m not sure you have the experience, Tryn.”

The former blacksmith’s apprentice rolls her eyes.  
“No, silly, I want to join you in the battle. I want to help fight the Covenant.” 

And here it comes. Rana was afraid that something like this might happen and she sighs deeply when she hears it.  
“Tryn, I’m not sure that’s wise.” 

The young nord doesn’t seem pleased with that, but was probably ready for opposition.  
“And why wouldn't it be? You need fighters, don’t you?”

“That…may be true. But you’ve got no experience, nothing to stand upon.” 

“Not true! Did you not find me moments after killing a soldier in the village?”

Rolunda widens her eyes slightly, and even Darj raises an eyebrow. Neither of them had heard about it yet, after all. Rana shakes her head, though.  
“Yes, but that was situational. You used the area around you and the materials you could find to your advantage. There won’t be burning coals for you to throw here, you know.” 

“I’m not stupid, Rana! I know it won’t be the same, but I don’t see how that matters. I didn’t have comrades standing by my side there either, to help me out, which I will have here!”

This is true, of course, but there’s other reasons for Rana standing against it, which most are aware of.  
“Sure, but a defensive force is only as strong as its weakest link. You don’t even have any weapons training.”

Tryn does her best not to take that as an insult, as she understands Rana’s intent. Doesn’t do much for her pride though.  
“Again, you’re wrong! I’ve not got much training with a blade, sure, but I’ve been out and hunted with Darj before! He can even attest to that!”

Eyes turn towards the hunter and he clears his throat and crosses his arms as well, trying to appear more serious.  
“It…is actually true, Captain. She was fairly good as well, for someone so new, if I remember correctly.” 

Rana frowns disapprovingly, while Tryn smiles in enjoyment over the praise.  
“See? I’d just need to fix my rusty skills a little bit and I’d be ready to help out!”

“Tryn, hunting deer isn’t exactly as shooting a person! They won’t be running away and they’ll certainly try to kill you unless you deliver a very good shot.”

“Then I’ll just have to put an arrow in as many heads as I possibly can!”  
She walks closer, trying to make Rana face her.  
“Don’t fight me on this, Rana. You know you need everyone you can get. I understand why you’re reluctant, but I don’t want to sit back and wait while the rest of you get slaughtered.” 

Finally, the Captain relents on the gaze at least and looks up at her, exhaling briefly. She’s not good with something sentimental, but that’s where this is passing right now.  
“But…you don’t have to go with us and fight. Some of us are going down to the docks and will engage them in battle over there, but I’m going to send the refugees up to the fort. It’s safer in there, for all of you.” 

“How do you know it’ll be safer? Eventually, the Covenant will reach that place too. Besides, if you’re going to face them beforehand, you’ll need people. I’m volunteering because I want to get the bastards that hurt our people and destroyed our homes.”

Rana doesn’t really wish to scratch at Tryn’s chance to get vengeance, perhaps the only one she’ll get. But at the same time, losing her would be devastating at this point. The danger of it, makes her question everything.   
As no answer comes, while Rana hesitates, they hear Seyne’s voice instead.  
“Captain, we could use more soldiers, just like she’s saying. We both know that and even if most might be untrained for combat, if we find someone with actual weapon proficiency, that’s worth a lot.”

And now everyone is turning against her. She’s supposed to lead them! Even Tryn pleaded for her to do so. Rana spreads her arms questioningly.  
“And who’s going to train her or anyone else? We don’t really have time for a quick boot camp.”

Rolunda tilts her head and peers at Tryn as she surveys the other nord.  
“You could have some of us spar with each other. That will help prepare both us and any volunteers for what’s to come.”  
She glances at Rana then.  
“I am willing to spar with Tryn, Captain, and evaluate her skills. If you’re willing to trust me with that, of course.” 

Darj jumps at the opportunity as well, nodding in agreement.  
“I’m ready to do the same, Captain. Might give us a valuable edge, in fact.”

At this point, she’s partially contemplating to just shut them down here and now, telling Tryn to get over to where the rest of the refugees are. But at the same time, she doesn’t wish to break her heart and possibly tear a rift in between them. With a shrug and another sigh, she gives in.  
“Fine, if you really want to do this, I suppose I have no choice. Rolunda, I’m holding you responsible to have her ready for battle when it occurs.”

The young guard smiles and salutes.  
“Yes, Captain!”

She then faces Tryn as well.  
“And you better be ready for what’s to come. This is very real and it will be about life and death. We might all perish here and everyone needs to be ready for it. I can’t have any soldier who isn’t willing to fight to defend this land, even with their very lives.” 

Despite the serious and stern tone, Tryn leans down to place a kiss along her cheek and then she stands up straighter and salutes as well, looking rather proud.  
“Don’t worry, Captain, I’m a nord. We will never back down!”

Rana just hopes this decision won’t tear them apart for all eternity. 

\--------

“Archers, on my command!”  
She raises a hand, holding them back while the men and women around lifts their weapons and prepares them with an arrow each. They wait, feeling the quivering emotions within, stirring them into the maelstrom of anxiety that comes before a battle. Their eyes dart around the area, trying to locate their goals and what they need to break.   
Finally, behind the buildings, crates and other items on the docks, they see the blue tabards waving in the air as their foes charge forward towards their positions, prepared to spill blood. Just as they do, the Captain shoots her arm forward and points right ahead.  
“Fire!”

A small cloud of arrows flies into the air and swarms all over the first row of Covenant soldiers, making them fall to the ground in severe pain or dying from the overall damage sustained from the impacts. The blue flood continues however, and Rana instead waves into the air for a few others further to the side. A couple of argonians pushes down several barrels down a small hill that rolls down towards their foes, who are not ready for what is to come. Rana then screams for another group.  
“Now! Light it up!” 

Up on a warehouse roof on the side, not too far away from the whole event, two mages who’ve been assigned here from the Fort, stands ready with balls of fire burning in their hands. At the signal, they shoot it off through the air and hits the barrels perfectly. The round wooden materials burst into flames before erupting in small explosions a bit too close for several Covenant soldiers. The redguards, bretons and orcs that came ahead in the first wave either run in panic from pain while being on fire, or possibly being knocked down from the sheer shockwave.   
The defenders get a small reprieve to cheer their success against the attackers, but this doesn’t last for long, as the westerners have sent many soldiers to these land and another batch soon reveals itself behind the corner. That’s when Rana draws her weapons, slamming the sword at the front of the shield.  
“Soldiers, get ready for close combat! Time to show them why these lands are ours! _For the Pact!”_

Several dunmer and argonians, as well as a couple of nords, yells in unison with the Captain as some of them rushes forward to face the onslaught, and soon enough, the dock is filled with the sounds of metal against metal, burning fires, shrieks of pain and many more things that people would expect from a battle.   
Rana herself naturally jumps in among the first to face the enemy, standing ready to shield the people of Bal Foyen with all she’s got. In a way, she sees this as part of a chance to redeem herself and gain some glory for this army which she’s joined with. It’s out here, that she won’t allow herself to really think of all the crushing anxiety which has come with her previous failures, for everything is about survival. Not just her own, but of those which she cares for. Her blade finds a few opponents with its edge, especially those who simply run at her with their weapon first, not prepared for her ability to block and get in around her enemies. She fights with a ferocity that few are capable to take on at this battlefield.

Further back, Tryn is caught in among the disorder of the battle, attempting to deliver shots to help defend some of the people at the front. Mostly, this comes down to trying to shoot other archers or mages who get involved in the battle. There’s not all too many of the latter, but they’re of course the most dangerous.   
For her, this whole situation is both better and in some ways, worse than how the fall of Bleakrock ended up being. At the very least, compared to that time, she’s not as scared now as she fights at the side of people she trusts and she’s more in control of herself. The sparring with Rolunda helped a lot and it really feels as if she makes some sort of difference.  
At the very same time, compared to the last fight, things now almost seem to be more plunged into chaos than previously. Sure, they had their defensive line and initial strikes ready, making it appear fairly organized to begin with. But once the arrow is unleashed, so to speak, it turns out to be no more than a hugely extended brawl. Obviously much deadlier, but at times she’s not sure where in Oblivion she’s supposed to look and part of her is almost more fearful for the risk of shooting an ally in the back than to get killed by the enemy. So far though, she’s done fairly well.

They don’t really have time to assess how exactly the battle is going, on either side of the docks, but for now, the Pact holds against them.   
While Rana defends herself against two soldiers at once, just barely avoiding an archers shot as well, she hears someone coming from behind. A nord defender, it appears.  
“Captain Rana!”

He launches himself at her side and cuts down one of the opponents, while Rana blocks another arrow, giving enough time for one of their own archers to take the other one down. That allows Rana to answer her subordinate.  
“Yes, what is it? You have news?”

He nods eagerly, while they gain a short pause and there’s a fierceness in his eyes.  
“Our scouts came with information for us earlier. They’ve found him!”

Rana furrows her brow, shaking her head slightly.  
“What are you talking about? Found who?” 

The man nods out towards a ship docked at the harbor, something that flies Daggerfall colors.   
“The man who destroyed Bleakrock! Someone mentioned they’d managed to overhear it from the Covenant soldiers who invaded the rice fields. General Vette is his name and that ship over there is his. He’s here!”

Rana widens her eyes in surprise, before they almost start to burn. She’s already breathing rather heavily, but the thought of that bastard actually being here, who killed her friends and destroyed what little they all had left, forces her to try to hold onto clarity.   
“Then he needs to die. I will see to it myself.”

She nods her thanks at him, not saying anything further, while the nord warrior returns to the battle. The news that the Covenant are out on the field is important and not very encouraging, but she can’t concentrate on that for the time being.  
All she has on her mind now is that s’wit out there in the waters, watching not just as his soldiers destroy the peace of these farmers and fisherfolk, but as he probably did the same up in the north. He hadn’t even given them a chance to surrender or to spare civilians. His forces had stormed in on that isle and brought nothing but death and destruction. Rana intends to give him a similar fate.   
She charges forth, focusing on the ship ahead, led by nothing but her rage.   
This turns out to be a rather foolish choice as well, as moments after that, she feels pain in her back as someone tackles her from the side and hits her back. By the force of the motion, she loses her footing and stumbles to the ground, dropping her weapons. She just has enough time to roll around to see the redguard warrior above her, intending to finish her off. And yet again, Rana makes a mistake because she couldn’t control her thoughts. When will she ever learn?

Fortunately though, she has allies to aid her and redguard soldier groan in pain as she’s knocked to the side by an arrow hitting her upper body. Before she has a chance to remedy the situation, another one hits her neck and she groans in pain while she tumbles to the ground, dead in seconds. Rana quickly tries to gather her weapons again, and when she peers up, she sees a hand offered from none other than the youngest Earth-Turner.   
“Told you I was pretty decent with it!”

In this occasion, Rana is very happy to be wrong and she takes the hand, while getting back to her feet. She wants to embrace Tryn but doesn’t have the time.  
“Remind me never to doubt you again.” 

“Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you don’t.”  
Tryn smirks as her pride beams when the situation is reversed this time around.  
“Where were you running to anyway? You’re usually so focused in battle.”

The ferocity returns and Rana frowns out towards the sea.  
“I was just told that the General who burned Bleakrock is here. That’s his ship out there.”  
She locks eyes with Tryn.  
“He needs to pay for his actions and I will be the one to deliver the blow. I have to be, after everything that’s happened.” 

The news stirs something inside the young nord too and she nods swiftly.  
“Alright, then let’s get out there! I’ll cover you against that horker.” 

Rana considers turning her down, but clearly Tryn has proven herself, so she’s willing to agree. Besides, she’ll probably need backup anyway, after that display.   
The two women try to carve a path out to the ship, cutting down soldiers along the way, and hoping that others can keep most of the other forces at bay. For the time being, it does appear like the defenders can hold their own against the Covenant.   
Unfortunately, their charge comes to a halt, when Rana twitches in fear as she hears Tryn calling out in pain. She spins around, just in time to see a Breton digging a dagger deeply into the nord’s back. He probably came up behind her just as she was trying to get a mage who was unleashing small storms against some argonian fighters. Another flame erupts in Rana, this one far above the rage aimed at the General, and she shouts her fury at the breton, trying to prevent any further damage to her beloved. Tryn had suffered injuries already back in Bleakrock and she will not let all this fighting be in vain. 

Tryn manages to spin around and slam her bow into his face, but gets cut slightly at her side as well, more of her blood spilling on the ground. It does open up for Rana to rush him and bash him with her shield. Once he’s down on the ground, she doesn’t allow him any break nor remorse as she simply slices his throat and stabs his chest one more time for good measure.   
As the battle keeps raging around her though, her attention has to be handed over towards Tryn who stumbles down to her knees as blood drips over her leather armor. She was given it just a day or two ago, as she was sparring with Rolunda and now it’s already seeing some tears, albeit not in a way Rana would’ve hoped for. She drops her shield on the ground and captures the nord before she falls, supporting her towards a nearby stone wall.

Feeling the panic of trying to stop the blood from flowing, Rana at least gains some of her sharpness back before things go awry.  
“Healer! I need a healer!”

Tryn coughs and pants while she’s holding her weapon as well. There’s a tired smile on her lips.  
“Heh, damn…that stung a lot more than the last time.” 

Rana looks around desperately for something different that can be used against the wound.  
“Don’t speak, love, it’ll only make things worse.”

It doesn’t appear like Tryn is properly listening though.  
“I suppose I just…got carried away.” 

“Healer, dammit! I need one here _right this instant!”_  
She leans closer to Tryn, moving a hand up along her cheek to see that she’s still with them.  
“Listen to me, Tryn. You did fine, alright? Better than fine, actually. You were great, absolutely fantastic.”

Rana is glad to see that her eyes at least focuses back on the dunmer and nods slowly.  
“You…you really think so?”

They can at least be glad that Covenant soldiers, at the time, appear to be too occupied with focusing on other fights, but Rana tries to stay alert.  
“Definitely. For someone with so little experience of battle, you’ve very much impressed me. All you have to do now is stick with me and get through this.” 

Tryn closes her eyes and nods again. She coughs once more, heavier this time and there’s some blood running down from her lips too. Not really a great sign.   
“You think I’ll…get a medal for this?” 

A silly question really, especially while they don’t really know if they’ll even survive this, but Rana can’t be allowed to lose hope, nor can Tryn.  
“I’m certain of it. If anyone protests, I’ll make sure they change their minds. Such bravery must be rewarded.” 

Despite saying this, she’s feeling the pressure and the anxiety. Will she have to watch the woman she’s cared for and fought for all this time, die right here on the ground before her? This isn’t how things should end, but she feels so helpless when she can’t really do anything to aid her. A field where she’s really useless in.   
Thankfully, she doesn’t need to wallow for long, as to the side, they hear a struggle that comes closer for every moment, and soon enough, Rolunda is revealed to them as she cuts a path through the enemy. Just behind her comes a lightly clad argonian. Something tells Rana she may be their savior.

Rolunda widens her eyes at the sight they’re met with, though.  
“Shor’s bones, Tryn!” 

The argonian tries to push her aside before she gets any further.  
“Please, give me some space! Captain, I will take care of her.”   
Rana moves away slightly as well, and sees how the reptilian woman carries a bag which she throws up and pulls out some equipment which appears to be medical in nature. Some bandages, sharper tools, potions – definitely things that one would expect from a non-magic healer. She doesn’t wait for long either, and gets to work immediately. She does offer a few words to Tryn however.  
“This will probably sting a bit, but that’s a good sign.” 

Rolunda stays in between them and any Covenant forces, while Tryn grits her teeth as the argonian pours some kind of powder on her. Rana almost feels how someone squeezes at her heart when Tryn emits a gasped groan in pain. She doesn’t want to move away nor let go off the nord’s hand, but there’s also other things at stake.   
While it happens, Tryn gets some of her senses back and meets Rana’s eyes.  
“You can’t remain here. You need to finish this. The General is still out there, isn’t he?”

Feeling doubt linger, she peers between Tryn’s wound and up at her eyes.  
“I…I can’t just leave you here!”

“You have to! He needs to pay for what he’s done and only you can do it! I will be fine, don’t worry.”

Rana still isn’t so sure that she trusts those words, especially as they’re filled with pain. This isn’t the images she wants to be the last she sees of Tryn.   
She hears how the healer snaps her fingers.  
“Captain! Her words carry wisdom. This is my job and you still have yours. Help defend our people while you still can!”

It takes a bit of time, but she finally snaps back into the reality of things and nods to both of them. She leans in against Tryn and kisses her forehead quickly before she grabs her shield.  
“I will do this, Tryn. For you and for all of Bleakrock. You better still be here when I return.” 

The other woman manages as much of a smile as she can, when she nods.  
“I promise. Go get him, beautiful.”


	13. Bond of fates

The cold of the water which she pushes up onto her face, runs down along her skin and brings an ease which almost feels like she hasn’t been able to comprehend for an eternity. In reality, it’s probably no more than a week or so, but it’s relaxing in any case.   
The peace and calm has returned to the lands of Bal Foyen, despite the fact that the war has far from ended. The dried blood, unburnt bodies and broken weapons all along the docks is probably enough of a sign for every soul that bears witness to it anyway. 

It's been two days since they held up in battle against the Daggerfall Covenant and it almost feels like a distant dream, even now as Rana watches the sea ahead of her. She can hardly believe that they managed to win the battle, although she refuses to take sole credit for the end result. A lot of people gave their lives, while some luckily just had to sacrifice blood.   
Nevertheless, so many stood bravely against the oncoming violence and pushed it back. She’s proud, especially after the slaughter of Bleakrock, that they had the heart to prevail. She can’t say it was all thanks to the soldiers of Fort Zeren either, even though many of them fell in the defense, for the docks would surely have been lost if not for some of the refugees that fought at their side.   
Rana also won’t forget the newcomer who came to their aid, pretty much from nowhere in the north and still stood with them down here. She’s probably to thank too, for finally getting the leader of those bastards, and she’s even been willing to continue on and give further word to Davon’s Watch. 

Indeed, the Captain is happy to see that the Pact can still stand strong against any threat which is posed at their home. This doesn’t mean there hasn’t been time for sorrow, though. In fact, a lot of it has descended upon them, and as Rana walks through the crowd at the small port, she’s on her way towards one of those who she knows has suffered a lot.   
Rana wasn’t really prepared for that the Covenant would pass around them with another force and attack the Fort as well. She also hadn’t considered how powerful breton mages can be, enough so that they could bypass the large and sturdy walls that should’ve stood as a valuable defense against them all.   
A lot of soldiers, workers and some of the refugees - good and innocent people - died in the attack. Not only did they lose Darj who led the people up there, but also two of the Earth-Turners. The oldest child, Littrek as well as his father Denskar, perished to Covenant weapons. Rana was glad that she could save Trynhild and that the old man had been able to secure his wife, but both Aera and Tryn still remain distraught over the result. Rana isn’t about to blame either of them, and she mourns the losses just as much. 

For the days which has past, Rana and Tryn has spoken very little, as Tryn has been forced to rest while she’s healing from the wounds she sustained during the battle. Rana has also been trying to speak to a lot of people during that time, sending reports to Pact command and trying to help the local population as a thanks for all they’ve done. Not that she didn’t sustain some injuries of her own, but she’s used to the healing process by now. Besides, it was far less severe than what the young Earth-Turner had to go through.

While she gets closer to the small building that she knows Tryn rests within, she’s still unsure of what exactly she should say. The former apprentice has lost her home, a lot of friends and now even family members. On the horizon, there may still be more too, unless the invasion is prevented. What could Rana possibly talk about, that could clear her mind? Parts of her just wants to head off and let Tryn be. It might just bring even more sorrow to her, that Rana is around and reminds her of the disaster which has befallen her.   
At the same time, she’s come to care for Tryn more than she’d first admit to, and she still want to be there by the nord’s side and support her in all endeavors that is to come. Perhaps trying to think too much of it won’t really help either. She’ll just have to go there and see what happens.

The argonian healer who aided Tryn on the battlefield, exits the building just as Rana approaches and sends the Captain a slight nod. Rana has learned during these few days, that she goes by the name of Strong-of-heart.  
“Greetings, Captain.”

“Hello. Is she…awake in there?”

“Mm, she is indeed. She’s remained strong during the time which has past, even though these harsh currents have hit her soul particularly hard.” 

Rana peers at the door, her mind distant at the thought. She wouldn’t have expected to hear anything different.  
“Do you think she’d be ready for me to speak with her?”

“I believe she would, yes. In fact, I think you’re the only one she really wants to talk to right now. I see no reason that it would affect her physical condition either, so go right ahead.” 

Before she enters, she turns to the healer and bows in respect.  
“Thank you. And I don’t just mean for this, but for everything you’ve done. You and your people have shown a lot of strength and wisdom, which I admire.”

Strong-of-heart simply smiles in return.  
“We’re just glad to have helped defend our homes, Captain.” 

As the two separate, Rana hesitates a moment, before grabbing the handle to the door and heading inside. The room is lit up, mostly by the sunrays that shines in from the open window, but it remains silent from the lack of activity within. It’s originally meant to be some kind of shed or storage room, but they managed to create a makeshift set of sleeping arrangement for Tryn to sleep on. After all, Rana wouldn’t want this woman to merely sleep on the floor when she’s healing. She deserves better than that.  
At this moment, it appears she’s awake at least, and she looks up slowly from book that she’s currently reading. Rana lent it from one of the fisherfolk nearby, hoping to give Tryn something to do instead of just wallow in her misery. Not that she seems all too happy because of it, but she appears slightly less dejected when the elf enters her view.

Rana gathers herself up and offers a tentative smile.  
“Morning. How are you feeling today?” 

Tryn’s eyes falls again and she sighs while she puts a hand at her side, over the bandages. She’s been cut twice now in that area. The wound at her back was still worse in comparison, though.  
“I’m okay.”  
Her tone and exterior sort of offers another story.  
“It still aches and the healer said I lost a lot of blood, but I’ll be fine in a couple of more days. Well, perhaps a bit longer; it all depends on what I will be doing.” 

Rana nods slowly and she moves to sit down on the side of the bed, but keeps her hands to herself.  
“You were very brave out there during the battle. I know I doubted you at first but, you managed to prove me wrong in so many ways. You should be proud.”

Might not have been the best thing to say, at least from the expression Tryn shows.  
“I don’t feel that way. Not after what happened at the Fort…”

Rana closes her eyes momentarily, cursing herself from within. She didn’t want to approach that topic too quickly, and now she might’ve just made it worse.   
“Y-yeah, I know. I’m sorry…for everything, really.” 

Tryn shakes her head.  
“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, though. If I had sent our scouts to different locations, we might’ve been able to prevent the attack and perhaps stopped the disaster from happening. My mistakes led to-“

She halts when Tryn’s hand is placed on top of hers, grasping it in a surprisingly tight grip.  
“Stop. Don’t talk about things like that, Rana. It doesn’t help any of us and I don’t want to have to blame you for all of this loss. Just…stop.” 

She swallows slightly, trying to get ahold of herself and understanding Tryn’s wishes. With a short nod, she places her other hand above the nord’s.  
“…sorry. I know all this must’ve hit you hard and I just want to…well, help you get through it.” 

“The last thing you should do then is try to blame yourself. Thanks to you, at least I’m alive as well as some of my friends. It’s not your fault, it’s the Covenant’s.” 

Rana sighs and nods in agreement. She shouldn’t push it too far.  
“You’re right. They’ve already attacked two locations now, which did not deserve all this slaughter. I suppose we did still win this battle, and prevented it from becoming a complete massacre.”   
Tryn closes her eyes and probably laments those who fell anyhow. If there’s one thing Rana isn’t great at, she’s learned, it’s to cheer people up.  
“Have you…spoken to your mother?”

There’s a short nodding motion from Tryn and she holds Rana’s hand a bit gentler.  
“I have, but it’s been…difficult. She’s heartbroken, just as I am. Perhaps even more. She lost a child and the man she’s lived with for so long. We’re now…a torn family.” 

“This is true and you’ve suffered a lot, but you can’t let this get you down, Tryn. You have to keep moving and live through this. It’s a lot of pain, I know, but they wouldn’t want you to falter or despair over their deaths. You can mourn and remember them, but don’t let it consume you.” 

Tryn is silent for several moments, but instead of keeping that going, she eventually nods.  
“You’re right, I have to get past it and I will try my best to do so. It’s just hard right now.”

“Of course it is and no one is expecting anything different. I certainly don’t and no one else that matters will either.”   
She strokes her thumb across the back of Tryn’s hand in a soothing motion, and it seems to help relaxing her at least. 

“I guess I should find my mother soon again and help take care of her. I have to see what she wants to do and when we have time…we can bury the two of them.”

Rana considers offering to be there, but she doesn’t know if she’s worthy enough to do so. Perhaps it’s best of the Earth-Turners are left alone? She’s been close to Tryn, but not as much to the rest, something she’s now mourning. She’d have wanted the chance to properly become part of the family, but she’s no longer sure if they’ll get that chance.  
“Aye, that sounds like a plan. Stick to that and try to find some solace in it. Don’t give up.” 

There’s some confusion as Tryn gazes up at Rana again.  
“It almost sounds like you don’t intend to be there.” 

With her intentions being spotted, Rana bites her lower lip and looks out the window.  
“Well, I…I suppose I have to tell you that I’ve been thinking about moving on to Davon’s Watch. There’s still fighting to be done and I really should be there. Morrowind still needs me.” 

She doesn’t wish to see Tryn’s expression, as she’s expecting fear, shock or possibly an even greater sadness, but it’s not what erupts.  
“You’re right and you should. I’m coming with you, as well.” 

Rana is the one who’ll widen her eyes in shock when turning to the nord.  
“W-what do you mean? There’s going to be more fighting, Tryn.”

“Yes, I know and I aim to be there when it happens. I’m going to join the Pact, Rana, and I’m going to fight those bastards with you. I intend to make them regret ever coming here.” 

This wasn’t what she expected or hoped to hear. It appears Tryn has filled herself with revenge rather than grief.  
“Tryn, you…you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t even walk properly yet! I may be needed there very soon to fight even more dangerous battles.”

Tryn nods quickly.  
“Of course and you will have my bow right behind you to cover you. I’m maybe too injured to move right now, but just give me a few days and I’ll be fit to fight with you.”

Rana spreads lifts her arms in a frustrating motion and then moves them to stroke along her forehead.  
“No! I-I can’t wait that long! I may have to move out sooner than that!”

Tryn rolls her eyes and sees right through he excuses.  
“You can wait a few days, Rana, I know you can. Besides, if we’re going to bury my family, then I want you to be there. You’re with me and I need you.” 

A fiercer part of Rana grows from within and wants to push back. It fears what might occur and the grief it brings. She moves both her hands around Tryn’s and gives her a sincere look.  
“Listen to me, Tryn! You…you can’t be out there with me. You saw what happened before and the injuries you sustained. You’re not cut out to be a soldier and I don’t want that life for you.” 

Tryn frowns in response, certainly not agreeing with that.  
“It is my life, Rana! I decide what I want to do with it, not you! Besides, others have said I fought well out there. You did too! Getting hurt once doesn’t take away from all that we did as I was trying to help you!”

“And what if things turns out to be worse next time?”

“Then we will fight it together! Side by side, we should grow stronger and protect this land, as well as the Pact. It’s the path I want to go, Rana and you can’t prevent that from happening. I lost everything in Bleakrock and the future which I was building up there. This war is forcing me to create a new one and this is what I want to do. I want to fight and I want to do it at your side.” 

The passion which she speaks with rumbles within Rana and the elf begins to falter, but keeps resisting. Her eyes fall back down, however.   
“I just don’t…want to lose you, Tryn. After all we’ve gone through, it would tear me asunder…”

Making her focus, Tryn moves her hands away from Rana’s and instead places them around the Captain’s cheek, pushing her up so that their eyes meet. They’re close now, even more so than before, when Tryn slides over the bed.  
“And you won’t, for I don’t intend to die. But I don’t want to lose you either, which is why I don’t wish to see you go out there alone. In fact, I won’t allow you to continue this fight without me. I love you too damn much and there’s nowhere I want to be other than at your side. You mean everything to me and I will defend that to my last breath.” 

Her intense tone sets a burning desire within Rana, to an extent which surprises her.  
“W-wait, did you just-  
You said that you…you lo-“

“Yes! I bloody well did, Rana! I love you and I want the whole of Tamriel to know that! I don’t care what the Pact fights for, because all I want to do is be with you. If that requires me to fight, I’ll destroy everyone that stands in my way.”

Rana isn’t sure what surprises her the most – that Tryn expresses her feelings so fiercely, or the anger which seems to have been lit within her. Either way, she understands that it’ll be impossible to get in between Tryn and her emotions. It might to be all she lives for now.   
Instead of saying anything, the dark elf lifts her hands and grabs her beloved’s shoulders, pulling her closer and moving Tryn into an intense kiss, enough to rival the power in which she’s spoken so far. 

At first, their lips are captured by the sheer force that they’re pushed through, but eventually it rolls on along a softer path of passion and lingering desire that they feel for one another.  
What a fool she’d been, to ever think that she should step away from this. Of course Tryn needs her and Rana can see no other future than being there with her. This bond is far more important and meaningful than any pact could ever be.


	14. Legacy

The leaves rustle in the wind as heavy boots plants markings through the moist ground. The smell of fresh rain through the earth, just an hour or two ago by now. Beyond the cap of the large fungus nearby, she still cannot see the sun revealing itself for them. Perhaps the weather will remain cloudy and filled with rain for a while longer.   
She trudges through the camp, sweeping it with her eyes but doesn’t find who she’s searching for. Eventually, she captures one of the soldiers that marches by her.   
“Have you seen Corporal Trynhild?”

The dunmer of lower rank turns swiftly to his superior and stands straighter.  
“Oh, yes Captain! I believe she was sitting down by the lake to the north. I heard someone mentioning she wishes to be alone.”

Of course she does. Rana grasps the note in her hand tighter and shakes her head.  
“Thank you, private.”  
She turns on her heel and heads off towards the location pointed out to her. She probably should’ve figured the nord would find someplace quiet after the latest news. Rana hasn’t gone through the same thing but, had she lost someone so close, perhaps she’d be the person down there. Or maybe not, as she often handles these things differently.

Months have gone by since the fall of Bleakrock and since they held off the Covenant in Bal Foyen. Surprisingly, both the Earth-Turners actually signed up with the Pact and joined their war upon the other factions currently battling through Tamriel. Then again, after what they went through, it might not have been so strange after all. They lost everything they had and there was nowhere else to go. Both of them felt the fire of war surge within them and wanted to do everything they could, and Rana certainly won’t blame them for that.   
What might’ve been a sign they should’ve noticed far earlier however, was that the mother, Aera, decided to head off on her own. She wanted to fight by Tryn and Rana’s sides, but felt that she might be needed elsewhere and so she took assignments that sent her on through Skyrim. While Tryn was saddened that she had to be separated from the only close family she had left, Rana thought it was fairly obvious as to why. Aera just wanted to be in Skyrim with other nords, right? That was the Captain’s thoughts however. 

She was far more pleased with the fact that command agreed to her request regarding assigning Tryn as one of her troops. After the success in Bal Foyen, despite the loss of Bleakrock, it appears they’re willing to give her some leeway. Or perhaps it has to do with the fact that some of the defenders back then, saw just how well they worked together. Rolunda and Seyne have obviously joined them in their endeavours.   
Naturally, there were questions too, whether it’s really a sound strategy to assign two lovers so close to each other, but during the war so far, they’ve given them no reason as to why anyone should doubt their ability to cooperate.   
Tryn has done very well under Rana’s command too and has grown to be one of her best scouts. She even managed to get permission for promoting her to Corporal a few weeks ago, and she was proud to see Tryn so happy about it. For about month or so now, they’ve both been assigned to Deshaan in Morrowind, to aid the other troops and civilians in cleaning up a lot of the mess that occurred here not too long ago. Actually, some of it is still going on. It’s just too hard to fully wash away the stain of daedric cultists. 

And then it happened, just this morning. A letter came in, sent directly to Tryn. Not that anyone had told Rana, but when she passed into the private quarters that belongs to her beloved, the Corporal wasn’t there. What got her attention though, was the note still left on Tryn’s bed, as if having been thrown in that direction. 

_“To Corporal Trynhild Earth-Turner,_

_I send this message to inform you that yesterday afternoon at the time of of writing, your family member and mother, Corporal Aera Earth-Turner, regretfully had to be brought to justice through execution.  
Despite her useful and proud service to the Ebonheart Pact, Corporal Aera got involved with the cursed Worm Cult which roams around the Rift in southern Skyrim and her actions almost led to the death of Thane Fjora of Nimalten. _

_The plot itself was discovered by the King’s Arrow and she ended the threat of Corporal Aera and the Worm Cult within Nimalten.  
I have been informed that Corporal Aera’s reasons involved grief over the loss of her husband and son, but the crimes of treason, killing of several Pact soldiers and attempted murder of a Thane of Skyrim, could only be met by one kind of sentence._

_May the Eight have mercy on her soul._

_Kevaldin  
Housecarl to Thane Fjora of Nimalten”_

This isn’t how either of them imagined that things would end, and certainly far from what they would’ve wanted. It doesn’t really matter though, for all Rana can really think about is finding Tryn at this moment. She can only imagine how this must’ve hit her beloved and she won’t let her be alone at such a time.   
It doesn’t take a lot of searching though, for soon she can see the young nord sitting by the lake. She’s only in a loose shirt and her leather leggings which usually goes with her armor. Her bow and quiver, which she got crafted in Davon’s Watch, is nowhere to be seen.   
Rana was running at first to this location, but now slows when she can’t see any danger surrounding them. 

“Tryn?”   
There’s no immediate response, and Rana feels a stirring anxiety from within, hoping that she’s not been too broken by this. Rana isn’t wearing most of her armor at this time either, as she usually doesn’t when she just passes through the camp to be with Tryn. Therefore, she’s merely dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, heavy boots and fairly durable set of pants. She does have the blade attached to her belt, though – it’s the same one that Tryn made all those months ago and she’s made sure to keep it sharp through all this time.   
When she finally reaches the scout, she sits down by her side strokes a gentle hand above her shoulder.   
“I erm, saw the letter.” 

Rana feels how Tryn shivers and she’s clearly trying to hide it too, but at this vicinity it’s so hard to do. When she tilts her head around, she can see the tears running down Tryn’s cheeks even while her eyes are closed. They almost rip at Rana’s heart just like their sorrow did months ago and so she wraps her arm around the nord and embraces her fully, allowing Tryn to place her head against Rana’s shoulder.  
“I didn’t think I…had any tears left…”  
It’s difficult for her to speak through the sobbing, but she tries to.

“You don’t have to hold it in, Tryn. You have every right to cry about this.” 

Naturally, Tryn has tried to stay strong when they’ve been together. She wouldn’t let hardship take her down any longer, and tried to move on just like Rana had suggested. Despite the attempt, she clearly wasn’t prepared for another knock to her security.  
“I’m…I’m the last one left. All Earth-Turners of Bleakrock are gone, except for me…”

Rana keeps one hand on Tryn’s back and the other gently stroking along her hair.   
“I know. The losses which war brings are terrible.” 

“I’m not sure what to think anymore. I feel…lost. What will I do now? She suggested that we meet in Frostfall, that she could come over to Morrowind and we could finally spend some time together. But now…how could this occur?”

Closing her eyes, Rana wants to find the right thing to say, just like she’s tried before, but it’s difficult to go beyond heartbreak.  
“I’m so sorry, Tryn. Neither of you deserved this.” 

She feels how Tryn pushes further against her shoulder but she also notices how the nord clenches one of her fists harder as well, torn between sadness and anger.  
“I still don’t understand why. How could she do this? How could she betray us after all this time?” 

Rana tries to think back to the past, just after they’d decided their new path back in Bal Foyen. Just as Tryn had asked her, she joined them in burying Denskar and Littrek, gathering some hope that everything would turn around.  
“You remember how she was back then? She was broken and exhausted. It was like she couldn’t go on any longer and only our support managed to pull her back up.”

“I know, but we helped her. We followed her wishes and got her through the Pact training as well. She just…seemed fine the last time we saw her.”

There’s a slight nod from Rana, but she knows Tryn is missing certain aspects.  
“Aye, but looks can betray and hide the truth behind. We probably misjudged her and the loss was too great for her.”  
She hesitates for a moment and contemplates whether to continue or not.  
“You know what the Worm Cult is capable of. It’s possible that they offered to…”

She doesn’t feel like completing the implications through those words and it appears Tryn doesn’t wish her to either. Instead she starts to sob once more and clings to Rana even harder. The Captain merely supports her, knowing that she needs this.   
“…Rana, I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want to be consumed by sorrow like her, but I’m not sure if I can trust my own feelings…” 

It’s not at all strange to hear her say that and perhaps Tryn had been contemplating similar matters before, despite the courage which she tries to muster. That’s why Rana has to be the strong one.  
“You don’t have to, Tryn, for you have me here at your side.”

“And what if I lose you as well?”

“You won’t, I guarantee it. If there’s anything that I have to do now, it is to survive so that we can continue through this hardship. I will not leave you until we both waste away from this world, long from now.   
Let me be your strength, Tryn, and don’t let the deceit of loss take heart.”  
She gently wraps a hand around Tryn’s, squeezing it softly.  
“I love you, Trynhild and I would never let you go astray.” 

Tryn feels it and cherishes the touch as well as those words, more than she can ever express. They bring a warmth to her soul which tries to breach the cold of grief.  
“But…it’s only me now. I’m the only Earth-Turner of Bleakrock left. It will all die out…” 

With those words, Rana moves her hand over to Tryn’s chin and pushes it up so that they’ll face each other when Rana peers down.   
“No, you won’t be, for I am still here. As long as we’re together, the name and memory of Earth-Turner will live on.”

Tryn gazes into those beautiful red eyes and feels further heat start to envelop her from within. She needs this woman’s strength and the security which she brings, now more than ever. Lifting herself up, stroking her tears away, she places her head in under Rana’s chin and just remains there for the time being.   
Far above, the clouds finally crack and let another batch of rain finally pour through, allowing the last of the pain to be free. Maybe it cannot be truly mended, for the scars will remain, but that is something which they can endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yeah, I know that there may be some other Earth-Turners in other places, but I was mostly thinking about those on Bleakrock, who was Tryn's only close family as far as I know._


	15. The forge remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This chapter is post-Alliance war and while I don't really know how or when it ends, it's basically just my idea for what happens to these two._

“Ah, _fucking s’wit!”_  
The words echo out across the empty fields nearby a lonely stone building, followed only by the squawking sound of some flying reptilian creature that takes off from the roof, alarmed by the raised voice.  
“Tribunal curse this bloody garbage!” 

She raises her hammer and is just about to give it a good whack to show just how angry she is, but somehow she finds reason just in time before it hits and simply flings it away, making it tumble around on the ground several meters away.  
Lifting her hand, she examines it for any damage and sees that there’s not really any blood or so, which was to be expected. But it damn well hurts after accidently hitting herself, just as it does every time. She really needs to get more precise with the damn thing, for she’s fairly certain that she’s going to break something one of these days.

“Now where in Oblivion did it go?”  
Rana lifts her eyes, glancing around the area and sighs while she stands up. Partially, she wants to make sure that no one else actually saw her blunder, but can see to her relief that she is indeed still alone. Well, except perhaps for some of the birds that still circle above the area, searching for food that they can attain.  
The elf manages to locate her hammer quite a distance away from her house, surprised over how far she actually managed to throw it. Her strength certainly hasn’t been waning, despite months of relaxing peace.

When she stands back up after getting the tool, she decides to stretch her arms and legs slightly, feeling they’ve been getting somewhat numb after sitting down for a couple of hours. Her eyes drink in the sight of Bal Foyen, the land which she and her beloved wife has decided to settle down in.  
It’s been a couple of years now since the Three Banners War ended, and while matters aren’t concluded in every corner of Tamriel, it’s quiet enough here in this part of Morrowind. In fact, as soon as it ended, Rana immediately took the opportunity to propose to Trynhild and finally seal the relationship which they started several years ago by now. At times, she still thinks back to that day and the joy which it has brought. It’s emotions which her beautiful Trynhild has deserved as well, after all the grief she had to endure because of it. Even now, it’s strangely satisfying to sign all her official letters with ‘Rana Earth-Turner’. 

There wasn’t really any question as to where they should stay either. They heard that Bleakrock had been taken back fairly soon after the Covenant thought to hold it, as King Jorunn would never allow enemies to linger so close to borders that belonged to his people anyhow. While hearing such news, Tryn never showed any interest in returning – it was the source of all the pain she’d suffered and so she preferred not to ever get close to that place again. Besides, it was upon the farmlands of Bal Foyen which they’d buried the rest of her family, and in a way planted the seeds for their own future.  
Now they’re fully settled in around these lands and enjoying a steady life which they’ve been building. 

Unlike what she had first proclaimed, Tryn went back to the arts of blacksmithing, especially after she felt that she had to continue the legacy of Maesa. Besides, if she wasn’t out fighting, it’s the only craft she really knew how to perform and at this point, she’s becoming one of the best in eastern Tamriel at all sorts of different styles and techniques. The people in the nearby villages, and of course the garrison, depend on her work and skills.  
In fact, just a couple of months ago, Rana heard that Tryn had taken an apprentice of her own, a young argonian from Dhalmora who wished to learn something more sturdy and practical. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to be a guar-herder like the rest of his family. 

Rana couldn’t really leave her life in the military behind, however. Not that she travels out to fight at the front anymore, for those days are long behind her. Pact command had seen fit to assign her to Fort Zeren when she decided to move here anyway, and as she’d already been promoted to the rank of Colonel, she leads the garrison and whole defense of this region. The war really taught her a lot about leadership and how to evolve through it, so much that she was decorated several times during its course.  
It’s difficult to speak about the Ebonheart Pact now though, as it doesn’t really remain in the same manner as it did during the war. It’s back to the old ways and looking over one’s shoulder. But this generation has learned a lot, and so they still remain as friends with their argonian and nord neighbors – or at the very least, without hostilities. Rana would never listen to any orders that said to hurt the people of Dhalmora anyway. 

As she turns back around, she faces their neat stone house, something that they received help to build when it was time to settle down. In fact, she was fairly surprised over how many were eager to assist them in doing so. It appears that no one forgot their brave struggle to save Bal Foyen and wanted to find some way to reward their efforts. Rana has tried to pay back their kindness with her own strength at times and at this point, both she and Tryn are respected members of the local community.  
Most of what Rana has contributed to though, is with her latest hobby. She hasn’t really had an easy time getting into blacksmithing like her wife, even though she tried, but carpentry has been somewhat more possible to comprehend. She would never claim to be good at it, as it would be a lie, but no one can blame her for trying at the very least. She’s been doing her very best and has even managed to build some of the furniture which they use in this house. Sure, they’re not the most beautiful pieces one has ever seen, but they are serviceable and that’s what counts, right?

“Alright, let’s get this done before she returns.”  
She walks back towards the porch of their house, sits down again and resumes her work. She’s been trying to put together another chair for them to use today. Sure, they’ve already got a few, but for this occasion she wants them to be sitting on ones that she’s created. Probably her pride at work, even though this isn’t too important. 

A little while later, her pointed ears picks up the noise of boots clashing against the dirt on the ground before their house, joined by a faint grunting. She takes a few more swings at the wooden creation before she glances out over the field.  
Just as she thought, along the road she spots a familiar woman walking upon its soil, holding a basket in her hand. It holds several objects within, but poses no difficulty for her to hold. At her side, Rana sees the brown hide of their pet guar Littrek, walking lazily but obediently after Tryn while it carries two bags strapped to its back. Sure, they’re probably fairly heavy, but guar are sturdy creatures.  
Rana’s eyes remain focused on the beautiful nord woman who comes closer though, seeing her golden blonde hair stirring from the breeze in the air. Outside of work, it’s rare to see her having her hair up in any confining positions. Nowadays, she much prefers to let it hang free, and from Rana’s delightful staring, she shares those sentiments.  
Her body is adorned by a loose red dress that she enjoys walking around in, with black dragon symbols placed like spots along its surface. She had it made from some kind of tailor in Mournhold a few years ago. Not that she’s all too attached to the Pact, but she’s always enjoyed the strength of the logo which they used. 

Tryn shines up into a gentle smile when she’s close enough and eventually leans down to place a kiss on Rana’s cheek.  
“Still working on that thing?”  
She nods briefly at the chair.

Rana flashes a smile of her own and nods, patting the side of it. At least it’s fairly sturdy.  
“Of course! I want it done before dinner, so we’ll have something nice to sit on.” 

Tryn shakes her head but they’re both aware that she’s glad Rana has something she enjoys to do. It does sort of help out with matters in their home as well.  
“Who’s going to be the daring one that will have to test it out, then?”

“Oh, we all will! I’ve already got enough for all four of us, don’t you worry.”

“Oh dear. This will be really risky business then!”

Tryn smirks slightly while Rana pouts.  
“Hey! My creations may be ugly, but I guarantee that they’ll never fall apart!”

The nord erupts into a gentle laughter then and leans down further, grabbing Rana’s chin so that she can turn the elf and capture her lips in a kiss.  
“Yes yes, I know that. You’re the master carpenter of Bal Foyen, or whatever.” 

“Tsk, let’s not get too excited.”  
When Tryn stands up once more, Rana’s eyes fall to the basket in her hands.  
“What’s in there?”

“Mostly liquor and some fruit. I was thinking I could try to make some kind of dessert for later, if I can mix ingredients correctly.”

Rana nods with a faint smile, looking forward to such a meal. In fact, both of them had been anticipating this day for a couple of weeks now. It’s somewhat rare that they get to meet Rolunda and Seyne, for the two of them settled down in the Rift after the events of the war. Rana has no idea how her old second-in-command managed to be convinced to do so, but the other dunmer was always the more adventurous type. The fact that the wedding between those two involved a mammoth, should probably attest to that. Besides, Rana is happy for them, which probably echoes Seyne’s feelings in return.  
The four still do meet every few months to have dinner together, usually alternating in locations. They may live weeks apart, but their friendship isn’t torn that easily. 

For a moment though, Rana narrows her eyes, as a thought pops into her mind.  
“Wait a minute, there’s not any mead among all that, is there?” 

Another wry smile spreads across Tryn’s lips.  
“Of course there is, darling. What else would we drink, eh?” 

Rana rolls her eyes and groans.  
“Why did you have to buy that swill? They sell perfectly good sujamma and mazte down by the docks, you know!”

Naturally, she’s aware of this, for it’s fairly often that they share a bottle or two together. This doesn’t stop Tryn from missing her favorite drink from Skyrim though.  
“You should’ve gotten used to the taste by now, dear.”

“I can’t get used to something which taste so horribly! Besides, if it takes a person actually having to endure many attempts in order to accept the taste, that’s not exactly a good sign.”

“Seyne seems to be completely fine with it, though. Pretty sure she said she likes it by now.”

Rana starts hammering away again on her chair. If this one ends up worse than the others, it’s Seyne who’ll be sitting in it.  
“Of course she did, and it was probably just to spite me.”

Tryn chuckles for a moment.  
“I think you’re overstating your own influence on her.” 

“Trust me, this is exactly the kind of thing she’d do.” 

The blacksmith appears amused as she opens the door for Littrek to head inside and she starts sorting the supplies in among their kitchen and food storage.  
When she’s placed everything and stands by the kitchen counter, she hasn’t quite noticed that the sounds of the hammer have stopped, until she feels a pair of arms snaking around her waist. The dress she wears has is somewhat open on the upper part of her back and just like now, Rana often enjoys walking in and planting kisses at the skin which is revealed.  
Tryn smiles gently and closes her eyes, halting her work while she enjoys the ministrations. To consider how shy Rana used to be all those years ago, is now a distant memory. Their experiences have drawn them together and made them always be open with their intimacy. 

“You know, I uh, recently received a letter in return from the Davon’s Watch orphanage.” 

When Tryn hears it, she blinks and slowly turns around while she remains in Rana’s arms. She places her own neatly by her wife’s neck.  
“In return? You’re saying you contacted them first then?” 

Rana looks somewhat awkward when she clears her throat but nods quickly.  
“Uh yes, I did. A couple of weeks back, actually.” 

Tryn’s smile turns even more delightful and she moves her hands to push through Rana’s hair.  
“What made you change your mind?”

While Rana still smiles, it’s got a shy edge when she shrugs. Intimacy is easy for her now, but this topic is a little bit tougher.  
“I don’t know, really. Perhaps I’ve just been caught in thinking about the future too. Besides…we can’t let ourselves be the last Earth-Turners of Bal Foyen, right?” 

It’s been something that they’ve probably talked about for a year or two now, although most of the time, it’s Tryn who picks up the conversation. A few pokes here and there, both teasing and yearning in nature.  
She looks very happy when she leans down closer to the height of her wife and places her lips even fiercer around Rana’s this time, letting her approval flow through them. Rana wouldn’t have thought that children would be the one thing which would fill Tryn with such joy, but perhaps she’d simply been naïve. Of course she’d want to continue her family, even if they’d have to go on a different route and with all the loses through the war, there’s still many who searches for a home. There’s certainly some space in their house for it.

When their lips separate, Tryn still has one hand stroking along Rana’s neck, and moves it beside the elf’s cheek as well, but opens her eyes.  
“So, do you have any preference yet?”

Rana emits a breathy laughter and shakes her head.  
“I think it’s a little bit too soon for that, no? Or do you have some?”

Tryn wiggles her eyebrows briefly.  
“Mm, I might do. But I’d want to hear yours first.”

Rana appears amused but she doesn’t have a proper answer, and therefore merely shrugs instead.  
“I don’t really know. I think we shouldn’t make up our minds until we get there. Probably best to wait and see.” 

“Perhaps you’re right.”  
She leans her head down to rest it against Rana’s.  
“The difficulty will be to actually find some time, though. There’s still a lot to do at the forge this week.” 

“Well, it’s not like we have to hurry things along, you know. We could wait a couple of weeks and prepare everyone that we’ll have to take a few days off. When it’s time, I can always ask Strong-of-heart to watch the house during our absence, while Littrek comes with us to the Watch.”

Tryn seems to think it over for a few seconds, before she leans her head back. Her response doesn’t really come through words, but instead by her gently placing a hand under Rana’s chin and tilting it up. She pushes her lips softly over the elf’s, capturing them yet again in a tender embrace. The taste of the sea that’s floated in through the air from the waters not too far away, is especially upon Tryn’s lips and Rana relishes in it, just as much as she does in the natural flavor that comes from the nord’s skin.

Their gentle embrace soon turns into a fiercer struggle that involves their tongues as well, while their hands start to wander. Tryn has a good hold at Rana’s hair, knowing just how much she enjoys when the blacksmith pulls at it. Not too much, just barely enough that hits home on the pleasurable notes for her.  
Rana first fiddles with the back of Tryn’s dress, until she groans somewhat in frustration and simply places her hands at her wife’s waist and hoists her up at the surface of the kitchen counter. 

Tryn giggles delightfully at first, but it is sounds that quickly shift into louder gasps and contained moans, when Rana works her way through kisses lower across Tryn’s body.  
The little brown guar is clever enough to understand that his owners certainly want some time alone, and he wanders off through half-open door and leaves them just as Tryn accidently pushes a few tools down on the floor, in the midst of her enjoyment.  
The peaceful lands of Bal Foyen is momentarily stirred in a toiling but gratifying fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And there we go, it's all over! I'm kinda surprised I actually managed to keep to my goal in terms of chapters, so I guess I did something right._


End file.
